Buckets of Love

This week I had the privilege to do some wedding flowers for a friend. I cannot pretend to have been anything but really sick with worry. The darling bride definitely wanted a wantonly relaxed country look (not that I could have done anything other than this in professional terms!) and we devised a plot: jam jars were covered with hessian and ribbons in an assorted look, tin cans were also dressed up with a bit of hessian and off white lace edging that were filled with blooms and then hung on the sides of the chairs with twine loops to create the aisle. Most things were gathered from my garden and hedgerows but at the last minute a few sensational bought extras were added: large mophead hydrangeas, dill flowers, phlox and roses. Without prolonged planning we filled old buckets with cow parsley and roses and transported a galvanised tub-full of delphiniums and the hydrangeas and drooping copper beech leaves.  Some extra mini ivy topiaries in a heart shape and galvanised buckets of French Lavender in-filled here and there. There were plenty of flaws (self critical) but in the end it was about creating rooms filled with scent and that thing that flowers do all by themselves with no help from others. While I was twisting ivy around urns and pronging another stem into a vessel I was remembering my own marriage vows and getting a lump in my throat and feeling ever so lucky to have been a part of such a special day.