"So are we being tricked when a scientist engineers a lily that doesn’t shed pollen or when a grower forces tulips to bloom in December? Does it matter that a dewy-fresh bouquet of roses traveled halfway around the world and lived without water for several days before it arrived at. Yes and no. There’s no doubt that flowers underwent a complete makeover in the twentieth century. New breeding techniques, advanced greenhouse technology, and global transportation systems saw to that. Thanks to those advances, there are some fantastic flowers on the market, all year long.
Forty billion dollars changing hands each year, all in the name of flowers. The idea was intoxicating. Before long, it became clear to me that this global flower traffic was not without consequence. A hundred years ago, for example, almost all of the cut flowers sold in the United States were also grown here; now roughly three-fourths of our flowers are imports, mostly coming from Latin America. The flowers themselves have been forced to change in response. They are now bred more for their suitability as freight than for any of their more refined qualities —delicacy, grace, and fragrance. They may have lost their scent, but they’ve gained a longer vase life. They’ve lost their individuality but have "gained the ability to travel all the way from Ecuador or Holland to sit on your hall table in the middle of December. They are ephemeral, emotional, and impractical, but we Americans buy about four billion of them a year. We buy more flowers than we do Big Macs. Flowers are big business. It just happens to be a gorgeous, bewitching, bewildering business."
From Flower Confidential by Amy Stewart
It’s always then there's the special joy of receiving flowers. Red rose from the local Manhattan florist or a “Happy Birthday” flowers delivered with courier from your far friend. Flowers always mean so much.
Small bouquet of flowers can make your day brighter even when it’s rainy behind the window. Unfortunately we are all known fresh flowers will not stick around forever.
Bacteria are a mortal enemy of cut flowers. It pile up at the cut end and occludes the uptake of water into the flower. As the stream of water slows, the flower become to dry and die.
Here some tips from "Alaric Flower Design" to help cut flowers last longer:
- Wash your vase in hot soapy water to remove any dirt and bacteria
- Cut the stems of store-bought or delivered flowers immediately with sharp knife at a slant of 45º angle, 1 to 2 inches off will be enough and most important to cut stems under water to avoid getting air bubbles trapped in the stem
- Put the fresh flowers into clean vase and fill it with cold water.
- Add the lemon juice to the water it should be less than a tenth of your water volume. Lemon will prevent bacteria formation.
- Now we need to feed the Flowers. Adding a sugar into the vase will do it. One teaspoon will be enough.
- Change vase water often. Best choice to change it every day. As longer you don’t do it as more bacteria will be in water.
- Keep cut the stems regularly, every time when you change water.
Using these tips you can order flowers online and keep it fresh longer. Enjoy in your Manhattan apartment a beauty of Mother Nature gifts.
Visit “Alaric flowers design” online store and make order for the beauty of your apartment or send floral gift with magic words in it. Also you can visit our floral design studio in the heart of Manhattan – Midtown area 42 West 56th Street New York, NY 10019
Have any question? Reach us by the phone: +1 212 308 37 94
Elegant and thoughtful gift - simple but not simplistic - white and green flower arrangement, bottle of Moet & Chandon and collection of chocolate, marzipan, and other sweets.
Although it is middle of August - if our cilents want us to make Christmas themed flowers - we are up for the challenge.
Thanksgiving is a strange holiday when you break it down to its essence. If you consider the facts, it's basically a holiday with its roots tinged with genocide and basically revolves around gluttony. Two really big sins in anyone's religion. Not to mention that it also acts as the starting pistol for a shopping free-for-all which has become something of a reality show to see who can drive themselves deeper in debt. Yes, I am cynical. But I am also right. Sure, there are other aspects such as spending time with family and friends, watching the Macy's Day Parade, and volunteering for those less fortunate. But my experience with this holiday has never been a positive one. At least until last year.
Last year, my boss, who is a wonderful woman, asked me if I could work the next day, Thanksgiving, and I was a little put off. First of all, it is a national holiday, and secondly, who the hell is going to order flowers on Thanksgiving? I asked her why and she told me she had a very special delivery that day and no one else would do it. I saw the look in her eyes which was one that I had never before seen. It was a look that told me this was really important to her. I cursed the fact that she was so nice to me all these years and I begrudgingly accepted, mumbling as I left so she would feel bad at having the audacity to ask me to work. She said thank you over my babbling vitriol and told me to arrive at 6:00am, which is 2 hours before I work on a normal day. Now I was incensed at stupidly agreeing to this.
On Thanksgiving I came into the shop to see my boss, working alone, preparing almost 50 arrangements by herself. Her eyes, dark circles from handling this order all evening. I thought to myself: "What sort of jerk orders this on Thanksgiving?" She asked me to help her decorate the vases, something I've never done before, but seeing as this was Thanksgiving and no one else showed up, I didn't have a choice. I helped put the ribbons on the ceramic vases and would occasionally mutter something like "This is a great Thanksgiving" and "I can't wait to meet these assholes". She never said a thing but diligently kept on working, exhausted and silent.
Once we finished the arrangements, we loaded them into a car and drove to the Bronx where we proceeded to unload them at a homeless shelter. A woman came outside to greet us with a warm embrace and thanked my boss profusely. "She does this every year! It's nice to see someone finally helped this poor woman! It means so much to everyone that they have these on the tables. It just makes the entire day so special." To say that I wanted to crawl into a hole and die would have been like saying Florida is a normal place; a gross understatement. On the ride home neither of us spoke very much, me from abject shame and she from not wanting to start a conversation where she would have to listen to my abject shame spiral out. When we arrived back at the shop I helped her clean, again in silence, and as I left I thanked her. She looked confused. I told her that I was thankful for showing me that whatever Thanksgiving used to mean to us, can change if we choose to be generous to others. Now it's my favorite holiday.
Most New Yorkers take the subway and most New Yorkers understand that this is just the price we have to pay for living here. We complain about them never being on time, that they are inhabited by the mentally insane, and that many times we have to watch the performances of those asking for money or a mariachi band. Still, I've lived in San Francisco where their idea of a transit system is more theoretical than actually existing. Los Angeles' transit system is your car, and Boston's is something that should be avoided altogether. So while we complain about our MTA, it's still the best in the country.
Last week I had an order, and for the years I've been doing this, I've never had one this specific. I was told to be at the northbound track of the 23rd Street station at 10:07am and to deliver a bouquet of white roses to the conductor of that train. This felt more like a hit than a delivery, but I was up for the challenge. I paid the fare and went to the platform and sure enough, at exactly 10:07 the C train rolled in. An attractive woman, and yes, I was surprised that an MTA subway driver would be attractive, sorry for my closed-minded attitude, was at the helm.
I knocked on her window with the flowers and she looked at me as though I were there to hijack her train. She opened the window with a slight bit of terror and said: "I don't give information." I handed her the flowers and she laughed knowingly. "Is this from that guy the other day?" I told her I had no idea, but that I was given very specific instructions to deliver these to her at this time and place. She opened the card and read it smiling. "Yep. These are from that guy who I saw running for the train and I kept the doors open for him. I've been driving for five years and no one has said as much as a thank you. I guess this makes up for it." Someone suddenly yelled out from the idling train: "Hey! Can we get moving?" She snapped back to reality and drove away. The ever turning wheels of New York have no time for sentimentality.