July at Hickman Hollow Farms
Hello farm friends! Grab your tea and settle in because this is going to be a long read. I can feel it.
When I sat down to write this month's update several days ago (sorry I’m so late), I realized something. For the first time since we started Hickman Hollow Farms, I wasn't writing about preparing for something.
I wasn't writing about seedlings under grow lights or about moving into the farmhouse. I wasn't writing about getting ready for our first visitors or thinking about what animal we should prepare for getting.
Instead, I found myself writing about life. Actual, everyday life on the farm. And finishing so many things.
Somehow, without me even noticing when it happened, Hickman Hollow Farms stopped feeling like a giant construction project waiting to happen and started feeling like home.
Now, don't get me wrong. We still have many more projects than I could ever possibly finish in one season. There is the herb garden and children’s garden still yet to build, fences to mend, structures to paint (I’m looking at you chicken coop), and enough weeds to keep me humble for the next ten years. But somewhere between harvesting flowers every morning and welcoming people into the fields, I realized we had settled into something that almost resembled a rhythm.
It's a messy rhythm. One that usually starts with a cup of coffee in one hand and flower snips in the other, but it’s still a rhythm just the same.
Every morning before I log into work, I let the chickens into their run and go wander through the flower field. It has become one of my favorite parts of the day. The farm is quiet. The air is still cool. The bees haven't quite gotten busy yet, and for a few minutes it feels like the flowers and I have the whole place to ourselves.
From Saturdays to Every Morning
One of the biggest changes this month was our u-pick hours.
After our first few successful U-Picks in June, and mainly because of the weather here in hot and humid South Carolina, we decided to open the flower field Monday through Saturday from 8:00 until 11:00 each morning instead of just Saturday from 9am to 2pm.
It felt like a big step.
When we first started planning Hickman Hollow Farms, I always imagined people wandering through flowers on Saturday mornings. I never really pictured someone stopping by on a random Tuesday before work to pick a bouquet for their desk, or a mom stopping by after dropping the kids off at school to pick herself a bouquet for home.
But that's exactly what started happening.
Some mornings a family would arrive together. Other days it would be someone enjoying a quiet morning by themselves. I met gardeners looking for inspiration, business owners looking for a bouquet for their front desk, and people who simply wanted a peaceful place to spend an hour.
I loved every bit of it.
One thing I know for sure is that flowers have a way of slowing people down.
Someone might arrive saying they only have twenty minutes before they need to be somewhere else, and then an hour later they're still wandering through the rows because another flower catches their eye or they end up chatting it up with me in the farm store talking about their chickens or their own gardens.
I understand completely.
It happens to me every day.
Running daily U-Picks has also taught us a lot about balancing life on the farm. Since I still work a full-time job during the week, mornings have become a carefully choreographed dance of harvesting flowers, watering what needs watering, checking on the animals, and somehow making it to my desk on time.
Some days I pull it off gracefully.
Other days...well...let's just say it's a good thing my coworkers can't see the amount of dirt that I regularly drag into my office.
But, I wouldn't trade it for anything.
There is something incredibly rewarding about seeing someone leave with a bucket full of flowers they picked themselves.
Not flowers that were shipped across the country.
Not flowers that sat in a warehouse for a week.
Not flowers that were sprayed with 110 chemicals to pass customs entry.
These are flowers they walked out into the field and chose one stem at a time.
Red, White & Bloom
One of my favorite days of the month was our Red, White & Bloom celebration on the Fourth of July.
Oh my gosh, we had so much fun that day.
We decided to do something a little different and swapped our regular metal U-Pick buckets for patriotic keepsake vases that guests could decorate and take home with them. Watching families sit together creating something before heading out into the flower field made me smile all morning. It felt like more than just picking flowers. It felt like making memories.
Of course, the flowers were only part of the fun.
Our sweet baby chicks also made their public debut that morning.
I don't know who attracted more attention…the flowers or the fluffy little balls of feathers.
Children spent the morning in the chicken pen holding and snuggling the chicks while parents asked questions about the different breeds we'd chosen. These are the types of days that I hoped would happen at our farm.
We've always wanted this farm to be more than just a place to buy flowers. We want people to experience farm life.
To hear chicks peeping.
To smell fresh flowers.
To watch bees drifting from bloom to bloom.
To leave feeling just a little more connected to the natural world than when they arrived.
As I looked around that morning, I definitely caught myself smiling more than once.
Oh sure, there were still weeds in places I wished there weren't. There were projects waiting to be finished and signs I still wanted to make that I thought would make things easier for our guests…but none of that seemed to matter.
People weren't coming to see perfection. They were coming to experience something real.
And I think that's exactly what they found.
The Gladiolus Finally Had Their Moment
If there was one flower that completely stole the show this month, it was the gladiolus.
Back in April, when we planted around 2,500 bulbs across three long beds, I remember thinking, "Well... this seemed like a good idea at the time."
Then came the planting.
And the waiting.
And more waiting.
By June we started seeing all of that work finally paying off with a few blooms but by July…wow!
Every morning it seemed like another variety had decided it was time to bloom. The rows became taller, brighter, and more colorful with each day. I found myself walking through them just to admire all the different colors standing shoulder to shoulder. Some were soft and elegant, while others looked like they had been painted with every color imaginable.
I think what surprised me most was just how many stems we and our guests were harvesting. I knew we had planted a lot, but there's something different about actually carrying armloads of gladiolus back to the barn.
That never gets old.
One thing I've learned this season is that every flower has its fan club. If I post a picture of zinnias, one group gets excited. Dahlias have their own loyal following. But when those gladiolus started blooming, I quickly discovered there are some very passionate gladiolus lovers out there.
I may have even found myself asking on social media, "Where are my gladiolus girls?"
Thankfully, they showed up.
I have a feeling gladiolus are going to become one of the flowers people look forward to every summer. And we already have a plan in place for a longer growing season for my gladiolus fans next year!
Building a Home for Twenty-Five Little Feathered Troublemakers
If you remember last month's update, you might also remember that I came home with twenty-five baby chicks.
There was just one tiny problem.
We didn't actually have a chicken coop yet.
Now, in my defense, sometimes excitement gets just a little ahead of planning. The chicks were perfectly happy in their brooder for a while, but by the first week of July it became painfully obvious they were growing much faster than we were. They needed a real home (and to get out of my guestroom), and they needed it soon.
Thankfully, we already had the perfect place.
Our horse barn has eighteen stalls, but with only three horses on the property these days, it begs the obvious question…"Why do we need eighteen horse stalls?"
We didn't.
So one of them officially became a chicken coop.
Jamie spent most of his weekends tackling the project, with plenty of help from our farm hand, Landin. Watching the transformation was pretty incredible. What started as an old horse stall slowly became a safe, secure home for our growing flock.
One of the things I admire most about Jamie is how much thought he puts into everything he builds. If he's going to do it, he wants to do it right.
The original stall door had seen much better days, so instead of trying to patch it together, he built an entirely new one from scratch. He also installed an automatic chicken door so the girls can come and go safely each day without us having to remember to open and close it morning and night.
Then came one of my favorite features.
The nesting boxes.
Instead of placing them where we'd have to walk into the coop to gather eggs, Jamie designed them to open from inside the barn aisle. It makes collecting eggs incredibly easy and keeps us from disturbing the flock every time we need to check for fresh ones.
It's one of those little details I know will make me smile every time I use it.
Now, I don't want Jamie getting all the credit.
I built the ramps leading up to the automatic chicken door.
Yes...I know...try not to be too impressed.
We'll just say carpentry is still a work in progress for me.
Of course, if you know us very well, you also know that I rarely let Jamie focus on only one project at a time. About the time the coop itself was nearly finished, I already had him thinking about three other things around the farm.
Since our chicks had been free-ranging for a couple of weeks while we finished everything, we finally reached the point where we knew we couldn't put off the run any longer. South Carolina has entirely too many hawks for my comfort level, and while the chicks absolutely loved their freedom, I wasn't sleeping quite as peacefully as they were.
So we made a decision that I'm really glad we made.
Instead of trying to squeeze another major construction project into an already packed schedule, we hired Outlaw Builders Co. to come build the run for us (check them out on Facebook)
Sometimes, even if you can do something yourself, it doesn't necessarily mean you should.
They did an incredible job.
The run is spacious, sturdy, and connects perfectly to the barn and coop entrance that Jamie built. Seeing the chickens happily exploring their new home for the first time made every bit of the effort worthwhile.
In fact, they did such beautiful work that we're already talking about asking them back when it's time to build our rabbit enclosure.
As for me, now comes my favorite part.
The decorating.
I've been adding hanging perches, putting together dust baths, installing automatic waterers, and slowly turning the coop into something that feels less like a utility building and more like a cozy little cottage for twenty-five very spoiled chickens.
The funny thing is, I don't think the chickens appreciate any of the decorating nearly as much as I do.
As long as they have food, bugs, and somewhere to scratch around, they're perfectly happy.
But every time I walk into that coop, I can't help but smile.
It's another little corner of Hickman Hollow Farms that's beginning to feel like home.
Sometimes the Best Stories Have Feathers
I can’t talk about chickens without giving an update on our sweet farm favorite chick, Thimble.
Poor little Thimble had quite the adventure earlier this year after a run-in with Karen. (Yes, Karen is one of our other chickens, and yes, she earned the name.)
For a while, Thimble became our house chicken while she recovered from her injuries. She lived indoors, enjoyed all the comforts of modern chicken life, and probably got a little spoiled if I'm being honest.
Around the same time, we brought home ten more baby chicks that needed a warm brooder to grow up in.
What I never expected was how attached Thimble would become to those babies.
When it was finally time for everyone to move out to the coop, we naturally assumed Thimble would be thrilled to rejoin the older flock.
She had other plans.
Every chance she got, she went right back to the babies.
She slept beside them.
She followed them everywhere they went.
She watched over them like they were her own.
Even now, those "babies" are growing bigger by the day, and Thimble still insists on being their mother. When they were tiny, they'd all try to squeeze underneath her feathers to sleep. She did her best to cover them, even when there were far too many little bodies to fit.
These days they're nearly too big for that, but it certainly hasn't stopped her from trying.
She keeps a close eye on them, doesn't let anyone push them around (not even Karen dares), and proudly leads her little flock around the coop as if she's been raising chicks her entire life.
Watching her has been one of the happiest times on the farm for me, and has shown me that nature has a beautiful way of surprising us.
Sometimes family isn't exactly what you planned.
Sometimes it simply chooses you.
Growing More Than Flowers
This month I've found myself spending more and more time thinking about something that isn't covered in blooms at all.
Herbs.
The deeper I get into this farming journey, the more fascinated I become with the incredible plants God placed on this earth long before pharmacies and medicine cabinets existed. For generations, people turned to the garden not only for food, but for comfort, healing, nourishment, and everyday care.
Somewhere along the way, I think many of us lost touch with that knowledge.
Over the past few months, Jamie and I have been experimenting with all sorts of herbal products. We've been working on handcrafted teas using herbs grown right here on the farm, calendula oil infusions, botanical hand sanitizers, lotions, salves, and a growing collection of recipes that fill pages of notebooks scattered around the house.
One herb that has especially captured my attention lately is yarrow. The more I study it, the more amazed I become. For centuries, people have used it to support skin health and care for minor cuts and scrapes. Then there's calendula, lavender, chamomile, peppermint, lemon balm, echinacea, and so many others that have incredible histories woven into cultures all around the world.
The more I learn, the more I find myself asking a simple question.
What has God already provided?
That question has completely changed the way our family approaches so many things.
I don't think our goal is to replace modern medicine. There are many things I'm deeply thankful for, and modern healthcare is certainly one of them. But I do believe we've become a little too quick to reach for the convenience of a pill before asking whether creation might already offer what we need for some of life's smaller aches, stresses, and everyday moments.
That curiosity has become part of the heart of Hickman Hollow Farms.
One day, I hope visitors will be able to walk through our herb garden, smell rosemary warming in the sun, brush their hands across lavender, harvest herbs for tea, and learn how generations before us cared for their families using the plants growing around them.
To me, that's just as exciting as growing flowers.
Because while flowers feed the soul...
Herbs have a way of caring for the whole person.
And I can't wait to share that part of our story.
A Pond Full of Possibilities
One of the biggest projects we tackled this month didn't involve flowers at all.
It involved a whole lot of dirt.
For months we've talked about adding ducks to the farm someday, but "someday" finally started looking a lot more real in July. We had our duck pond dug, and while it doesn't look like much yet, I can already picture what it's going to become.
Right now it's simply a pond. Freshly dug banks, muddy edges, and water that's still settling in. If you drove by today, you might not think twice about it.
I can't help myself, though.
When I look at that pond, I don't see what it is today. I see what it will become.
I picture ducks and maybe even some geese floating across the water while kids scatter handfuls of feed from the shoreline. I imagine native plants growing around the edges, dragonflies dancing over the surface, frogs calling in the evenings, and families lingering just a little longer because it's simply peaceful to sit there.
We've already started talking about ways to keep the pond healthy using natural methods. I love the idea of creating a thriving little ecosystem instead of relying on chemicals or complicated equipment whenever possible. Floating plants, bog filters, beneficial insects, and encouraging wildlife all fit beautifully with the way we hope to care for this farm.
One thing I've learned this year is that every project seems to lead to three more ideas.
The pond has been no exception.
What started as "we need a place for ducks" has quickly become conversations about landscaping, walking paths, benches, wildflowers, solar-powered circulation, and creating another quiet place where people can simply slow down for a while.
That seems to happen a lot around here.
A simple project quietly grows into something much bigger.
And honestly...
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Reclaiming the Back of the Farm
Speaking of water and ponds….sometimes the biggest milestones don't make for the prettiest photographs.
For months we've talked about the back of our property almost like it was a mystery. We knew it was there. We knew there was so much potential waiting for us, but between the condition of the dam in the pond and years of overgrowth, reaching that part of the farm wasn't exactly easy.
This month that finally changed.
One side of the dam repairs were completed (the other side will happen in August), drainage improvements were finished, and for the first time since buying the farm, we were able to drive across and begin exploring those six or seven acres that had been sitting in mystery behind everything else.
Going back there felt a little like opening a door that had been locked for years.
There is still a tremendous amount of work ahead. A few trees need clearing, brush has to be cleaned up, and we'll spend plenty of weekends deciding exactly how to make the best use of the space. But for the first time, we're no longer imagining what the back of the farm could become.
We're standing in it.
I'm going to keep some of those plans to myself for now because I'd love for it to be a surprise, but I will tell you this much. If everything comes together the way we're hoping, next spring could be one of the biggest transformations this farm has seen yet.
Sometimes it's nice to have a few secrets.
Every Morning Feels Different
One thing I don't think I've shared enough is just how much I enjoy my quiet mornings here.
Before work begins and before visitors start arriving, I almost always find myself wandering through the flower field with a cup of coffee in hand. There's no rush. No agenda. Sometimes I harvest a few flowers, sometimes I pull a weed or two, and sometimes I just walk.
It's become my favorite part of living here.
The farm has a completely different personality first thing in the morning. The air is cool, the birds are busy waking up, and the bees haven't quite started their work for the day. It feels peaceful in a way that's hard to explain unless you've experienced it.
Those walks have also become a reminder that nature doesn't operate on my schedule.
The flowers bloom when they're ready.
The weeds certainly don't wait for permission.
The chickens expect breakfast whether I have a meeting in five minutes or not.
Living on a farm has a way of gently reminding you that you aren't in control of nearly as much as you thought you were.
And honestly, I think that's good for me.
It forces me to slow down, pay attention, and appreciate the little things that are so easy to overlook when life gets busy.
And a New Story is Stirring
One thing you may not know about me is that I've always loved to write. I love creating stories, imagining places, and dreaming about worlds that feel just a little more magical than everyday life. Somewhere along the way, I realized I didn't want to leave that part of myself behind as we built Hickman Hollow Farms.
Instead, I wanted it to become part of the farm itself.
Over the coming months, you may start noticing "The Hollow" waking up in little ways. Nothing loud or over-the-top. Just small moments that invite you to slow down, pay attention, and wonder if there's a little more happening here than first meets the eye.
I'll share more about that soon, but for now, just know that if you happen to notice a curious note, a familiar wren, or a whisper of someone called the Keeper... well... you might just be paying closer attention than most.
After all, every good story begins with a little mystery.
Lessons July Taught Me
If June taught me that people really do love flowers as much as I do, then July taught me something equally important.
Running a flower farm is very different from growing flowers.
Growing flowers is the easy part.
Running a flower farm means greeting visitors, harvesting at just the right time, keeping up with social media, answering messages, watering, weeding, caring for animals, dreaming up future projects, and somehow fitting all of that around a full-time job and family life.
Some days I felt like I had everything under control.
Other days I looked around wondering if I'd accidentally added three extra days to my to-do list while I wasn't paying attention.
I've also learned that perfection isn't what people are looking for.
For months I worried about every little thing visitors might notice. A weed in the flower bed. Grass that needed trimming. A project that wasn't finished.
Do you know what people actually noticed?
The flowers.
The butterflies.
The chickens.
The dogs.
The smiles.
The peacefulness.
They weren't looking for perfection.
They were looking for an experience.
That realization has been incredibly freeing.
This farm doesn't need to be perfect to be beautiful.
It just needs to be real.
Looking Toward August
As July comes to an end, it feels like we're standing in the middle of one season while already dreaming about the next.
We're already planning for fall flowers, thinking about herbs we'll be harvesting, and sketching ideas for gardens that won't even be planted until next year.
That's one thing I'm learning about farming. You're always living in at least two seasons at once. You're harvesting today's flowers while planting tomorrow's dreams.
As I write this, I can't help but smile thinking about everything we've experienced over the last seven months.
Back in January I wrote about waiting.
Waiting for warmer weather.
Waiting to move into the farmhouse.
Waiting for seedlings to grow.
Waiting for the farm to become what we hoped it would be.
Now, here we are in the middle of summer.
People are picking flowers in our fields.
Children are laughing as they visit the chickens.
Rose and Little greet visitors like they've lived here forever.
The flower fields are bursting with color, and every week brings another opportunity to share this little piece of God's creation with someone new.
It's humbling to look back and see how faithful God has been through every step of this journey.
Sure, I’ve had times when I questioned whether we'd get everything done. There were days when the weather worked against us, equipment broke, or we simply felt overwhelmed by the amount of work still ahead.
Yet every single month, somehow, God provided exactly what we needed.
Sometimes it was rain.
Sometimes it was sunshine.
Sometimes it was an encouraging conversation with a visitor.
Sometimes it was simply the strength to keep going when we were tired.
As we head into August, I know there will be new challenges waiting for us. There always are. But there will also be new flowers, new visitors, new ideas, and new opportunities to share this place with others.
And if the first half of this year has taught me anything, it's that some of the very best things happen when we simply trust God, take the next step, and keep planting.
Thank you for following along with us. Whether you've visited the farm, shared one of our posts, read these monthly updates, or simply cheered us on from afar, you've become part of the story we're building here.
We truly couldn't do it without you.
Here's to whatever August has in store.
