Flower Factory Forever

First it was Roslyn Nursery, then Heronswood, then Seneca Hill Perennials — poof! Here for years and then suddenly gone. I still have plants from all of those memorable nurseries. But they were "paper" places; I read their catalogs but never shopped in person at any of them.

They were coastal destinations, not friends and neighbors like Nancy and David Nedveck, hands-on owners of The Flower Factory, down the road from Madison. You run into them at local garden events as here at Olbrich Botanical Gardens before we all went inside for a talk by Fergus Garrett of Great Dixter in the UK. 

The first plants that I bought for my very first garden, a rather simple affair located behind my apartment, were from the Flower Factory at Madison's original downtown Farmers Market. To a new gardener, stopping there was a weekly slice of heaven. These days I can't remember the last time I went downtown on a Saturday morning and socialized with David; now I always drive out to the nursery so I can bring home a heavy haul.

I usually go out to the nursery a couple of times a season. I always sit a minute in my car anticipating what fun I am going to have shopping here. 

Then I meander along the incredible flower border running the length of the adjacent hoop house. 

Next I turn around and walk over to take a closer look at the plantings across the parking lot. Just a glance at those bright pink Dianthus carthusianorum told me why mine are not as happy as these. Mine are in soil that's too rich and moist: A garden lesson learned and I haven't even left the parking lot! Hasn't that always been one of the benefits of buying locally? We can learn just by looking, let alone consulting Nancy or David and their staff. 

This little green-roofed building always makes me smile. 

I save the Hosta houses until last. That way I don't bang up those big leaves while I shop. 

I peek in but don't stop. (photo below from April, 2010)

If the weather looks threatening, I wear my hooded rain jacket leaving the umbrellas for those who need them! I usually look like a gardener when I go to FF: boots, jeans and an old T-shirt, gloves, a hat. Now and then people have asked me for help because I looked like I must work there.  

Most of these photos are from 2016/17 and don't begin to show the kinds of container plantings and inspirational displays that abound at Flower Factory these days. I've been seduced more than once by plants that were unfamiliar or just so beautifully grouped into a display that I had to take some home with me. 

Even though I always bring my FF catalog and have a specific plant shopping list in hand, I don't think I have ever managed to get away without at least one impulse buy. 

I started filling an index card with relevant information (including source) for each plant I purchase beginning in the late 1980s and still do so. Thus I know I bought my first Japanese painted fern at FF in 1989; my first Toad lilies in 1996 and Geranium macrrohrizum in 1998. These are stalwarts in my garden.

More recently I started taking a photo of my plant purchases before I leave the Flower Factory or as soon as I get home. It's a great visual record of what I bought when.

These wagon loads are from early spring, 2010.

August, 2016

August, 2017

June, 2019

September, 2019

I would not be the gardener I am nor have the garden I do if not for Nancy and David. The incredible variety of plants they offer each year (2,500 in 2019) is only one small part of what they've given us. On-the-spot plant identification and advice no matter when or where I run into them. Presentations to garden groups large and small. Their catalog has a page of general gardening information in the back and they provide an entire alphabet list of uses for their perennials ranging from drought and salt tolerance to plants that like it wet or are fragrant and on and on. 

In my gardening heart-of-hearts, I've known that one of these days David and Nancy would retire. Why wouldn't they? Lots of us did it years ago, which is why we have all this time to garden. Running a nursery on the scale and complexity of Flower Factory is a job that never stops and rarely slows down. It is a business that is subject to the vagaries of weather and the whims of the gardening world. Those of us who live in Dane Country and the Upper Midwest have been luckier than most American gardeners to have such a rich source of plants and pleasant nursery folks right on our doorstep. Best wishes to David and Nancy as they take this next step on their journey.

Comments

[Kristin]

Oh, what a shame. Isn't it amazing how nurseries can group plants together in new ways that make us HAVE to buy them? And, who can shop for plants with an umbrella?? Hooded rain jackets are the only way!

[Barbara H.]

What a wonderfully dangerous place! Have they sold it so it will keep going? I can't imagine the type of energy and commitment it took to create such a wonderful resource for gardeners.

[Lisa at Greenbow]

You will feel out of sorts now and then this spring/summer. It is a shame they don't have someone to carry on. What a beautiful business.

[Kris P]

I'm sorry you've lost a wonderful resource like that one. I know how you feel - I still mourn every nursery I've lost since the late 80s. The last of these, Sperling in Calabasas, closed in 2015 following the death of the founder. His kids sold the property to a car dealership next door. I still cringe every time I pass by there on the freeway.

[Beth @ PlantPostings]

I know, I'm so sad. So many of my plants came from their amazing collection. They will be missed, for sure!

[Loree / danger garden]

I remember first reading about this nursery on Matty and Megan's blog Far Out Flora. They lived in San Francisco but were from Madison (and moved back briefly after their daughter was born). What a loss!

[Frank]

It's hard letting go. My favorite local nursery is in limbo and although it sounds selfish I really want them to just figure out a way to stay open. Far more cool places close than open up, it can be a backbreaking way to make money.