Daffodils at the gate, welcoming me like little dots of sunshine,
Even at eight in the morning on a cloudy day
A patch of Tulips that transports me to the Netherlands,
Enough to colour the soul after a long, dreary winter
Cherry blossoms, wisteria, and lilies
Hydrangeas, roses, and dahlias
Lavender. Lavender as far as the eyes can see,
Swaying rows of purple, their fragrance playing in the air
Handmade skincare and herbal teas in the farm shop;
And people who remind me that there is still good in the world
Oh, to have worked somewhere so wonderfully whimsy for five years. To have spent time with bosses who turned into friends. To have been a part of the growth of a humble business. Wānaka Lavender Farm, I’ll miss you dearly.
To celebrate my time there and as a way to process that, as of today, I’ve actually left the place, let me tell you a little story about my journey with Wānaka Lavender Farm (WLF).
First of all, I applied for a job at WLF multiple times. That’s how desperate passionate I was about working there. Why, you may ask? Or perhaps not, because just read the poem again and tell me it doesn’t sound like the best place in the world to work.
WLF is home to gardens of various flowers, fields of lavender (duh), rescued animals including alpacas and highland cows, a cosy tearoom with homemade teas and a roaring fireplace, floral skincare in the shop you can try out… to name a few unique selling points. It just has a lovely, relaxing atmosphere, and it was somewhere I wanted to experience on a daily basis. I knew that if I worked there, I wouldn’t hate turning up to do my job.
Ok, well, as is made clear by the fact I had to re-apply, I was rejected the first couple of times I went looking for a job at WLF — no hard feelings. The farm has a high turnaround of staff because the town we’re living in is seasonal. So although the general Guest Experience positions at the Front of House were never meant for me, I finally got a call for an interview on my third try, and it was for the brand new Guest Experience Supervisor role. I jumped onboard and worked as the supervisor for a few years.
Unfortunately, my weary introvert soul couldn’t handle customer service for any longer. I was done, but I wasn’t ready to leave. So, of course, the owners created a new role for me. That’s just how they roll. I became a part-time sort-of administrator, sort-of social media manager, and everything in between. It was the best outcome I could have asked for: moving on to new ventures with my partner and his flooring business but also holding on to a workplace that continued to serve me a weekly dose of wholesomeness.
Sadly though, this week was my last; 5 years exactly to the week I signed my first contract.
In that time, I met my best friend there. I’ve taken a stroll through the flowers crying about life with one of the owners on more than one occassion. I celebrated the farm’s success at an awards night. I’ve been sent on amazing staff outings. I’ve watched the farm kids grow from toddlers to teens (not quite, but near enough). I was a part of their 10 year anniversary event. I’ve watched how a family business is run and cared for; nourished. I’ve trained more employees than I can remember.
There were some tough times at WLF, too… but in the grand scheme of things, they weren’t really that bad at all. What’s a few rogue staff members and a global pandemic?
I hung on for as long as I could.
As always, the owners are gracious and understand my reason for leaving; shifting my focus entirely to the flooring business.
There may have been tears today but I know this isn’t goodbye. It’s a see ya later! After all, I live down the road from the lavender farm and the owners (literally) and will be visiting the people, the animals, and the colourful gardens often.
How lucky was I to have been chosen to work at such a special spot?
Incase you’re eager to read more about the farm and my love for it, see the linked blog post above.
I also wrote every single blog post on Wānaka Lavender Farm’s own website if you want to check them out: Farm Stories.
Until Next Time,
Miriam
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