Rain, Rain, Go Away (No, Seriously, We’re Drowning in It)

Adventures in Muddy Boots, Extra Weeds and Flower Farming

It Was Cute at First. Now It’s a Problem.

A little rain? Lovely. Romantic, even. Great for seedlings and soul-searching. A bit of rain is a real treat because watering is itself a part-time job. When the rain does it, I have so much time for activities like making signs and doing the dishes!

Too much rain? Well then there’s just mud everywhere. Nothing gets planted. Everything smells like creek mud around here. I’ve had muddy, wet feet for five days. The weeds are thriving. I am not.

Can I Plant Sunflowers in This Soup?

Short answer: nope.

Sunflower seeds + waterlogged soil = a rotting mess. They need warmth and well-drained ground. If you plant them now when there is honest to Go mud, they’ll either rot or get immediately evicted by slugs. It’s like throwing a pool party for seeds that can’t swim.

What About Zinnias? They’re Tough, Right?

Zinnias are tough—but they’re not magical. If you’ve got raised beds or fast-draining soil, you might be able to sneak a planting in during a rare dry spell. But if you step into your garden and sink two inches? You’re going to have to wait. These queens like a little moisture, not a mud spa.

When Can I Rototill Again Without Making a Total Mess?

Here’s the rule: if your soil sticks to your boots and looks like brownie batter, don’t till. You’ll compact the soil, damage its structure, and regret everything. Wait until it crumbles in your hand like chocolate cake (but not too dry—I’ve been listening to a lot of the Great British Baking Show so get ready for all of the baking references).

Still Gotta Harvest—Even in a Monsoon

When it is harvesting season later this summer, the rain doesn’t care about your bouquet schedule, but your customers do. So we harvest anyway in the rain. With pruners slipping in our hands and petals threatening to dissolve. Sunflowers don’t really like to be harvested in the rain, but if the petals aren’t quite open yet, they’re more forgiving.

It’s not glamorous. It’s damp, muddy, and oddly meditative. Also: no one looks cool in a poncho or soaking wet and that’s just fine by me.

What This Means for Your Bouquets

Less variety, a little more green, and a higher chance I deliver your flowers looking like a raccoon who lost a fight with a thunderstorm. But the blooms we do get in the pouring rain? Hard-won and beautiful. They mean we kept going. Even when the fields said, “Maybe not today.” Here’s just another lesson in resiliency and how you just have to start and magic happens. All that learning and growth from flowers. They can often be my best teacher.

If You See Me Talking to the Sky

I’m not okay—but I’m farming anyway.

Wave. Offer coffee. Tell the sun to come back. Or just know that if it’s raining and you don’t see sunflowers yet, it’s not because I forgot. It’s because I’ve been ankle-deep in perseverance and mud.

Erin Curtis

I am a 44-year-old widow and single mom to two wonderful boys, balancing a full-time career as a dedicated teacher at a local K-8 school and a part-time passion as a flower farmer. Living on my grandmother's cherished farm, I was drawn to flower farming as a therapeutic outlet after experiencing the profound loss of my two children to cancer. Growing and sharing flowers has become a way to honor their memory, find healing, and connect with others through the beauty of nature.

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Marigold Mayhem: Fighting Deer, Learning French (Marigolds), and Hoping for a Blooming Miracle

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Dirt-Stained Hands, Holy Work: Scrubbing Off PA Red Clay and Keeping the Soul Intact