The Greenhouse High & Other Totally Reasonable Spring Thoughts
The Greenhouse High
There’s a moment. You know the one.
You step into a greenhouse and the smell hits you like a nostalgic gut punch.
Warm earth. Wet leaves. Possibility.
Suddenly you’re transported,
Back to when you were maybe eight years old, digging holes with a kitchen spoon because you didn’t know what a trowel was.
Or laying in the grass, totally content, without a single adult worry on your mind.
You weren’t gardening back then, you were just in it.
Present. Grounded. Joyful.
And something in you still remembers.
That’s why we go back. Why we spend too much. Why we overplant.
Why we say “not this summer” and do it anyway.
It’s not about the garden.
It’s about the part of you that only comes alive when your hands are in the dirt and something’s trying to grow.
The Great Overcommit
Every Memorial weekend I tell myself:
“This year, I’m keeping it chill.”
Just a couple herbs. Maybe a tomato plant.
A few flowers if they’re on sale.
Fast forward, and I’m full speed at Menards like it’s Supermarket Sweep: Perennial Edition, clutching rebate receipts and pretending they count as actual currency.
Somehow I go from "just herbs" to:
1 cranberry tree
6 spirea shrubs at $50 each
75 hens and chicks
1 honeysuckle vine
2 ferns
Because obviously.
Then I stand back and admire my masterpiece like I’m auditioning for Better Homes & Gardens, only to follow it with:
“Those damn deer better not…”
“Who the hell is even going to see all this anyway?”
It’s not about curb appeal.
We live on a county road that only the deer, UPS, and one confused meat salesman ever visit.
So who is this for?
Me.
And possibly the skunk I locked eyes with last week.
The Bring-Your-Plants-In Dance
If you’ve ever gardened in northern Minnesota, you already know the dance.
One night it’s 35 with a frost warning.
The next day it’s 95 and everything's fried.
Two days later? Snow showers. In late May.
Some of you are probably saying:
“Never plant before Memorial Day!”
“That’s what you get for buying early.”
Well, here’s the grapple-apple I wrestle with every single year:
Buy too early? You’re babysitting flats of plants like they’re on house arrest.
Plant too early? The frost wipes them out.
Wait too long? You’re stuck scavenging leftovers while everyone else posts victory photos of their window boxes.
When Your Inventory Starts Wilting Too
There’s something about a greenhouse haul that mimics a flawed business strategy.
You start out with good intentions: a clear plan, a color scheme, a budget.
Then you get distracted by what’s “trending.” What’s “flying off the shelves.” What a neighbor swore would work last season.
Next thing you know, you’ve filled your cart with plants that don’t even match your zone or your lifestyle, and now you’re frantically trying to keep things alive that maybe never belonged in your garden to begin with.
Sound familiar?
It’s the same trap people fall into with sales projections, inventory buys, or service launches. You listen to every opinion.
Try to please too many types of buyers. Panic-order bulk just in case.
Now you’re stuck: overwatered, overstocked, and underwhelmed.
And when nothing’s blooming, the first thing you question is yourself:
Was it me? Was it the product? The market?
Nope.
Sometimes it’s just the wrong mix.
Too many “sure things.”
Too many “you HAVE to carry this” comments from people who’ve never once checked your bottom line.
Growth doesn’t come from excess.
It comes from clarity.
From knowing when to plant something new, and when to stop reviving what’s already gone limp.
The Old Reliable and Trend Chasing
Let’s talk about the two extremes:
The “you have to offer this!” trend pushers
The “we’ve always done it this way” comfort seekers
You know them.
In the plant world? It’s the TikTok annual everyone wants this year.
Or the marigolds your grandma always planted that you lowkey can’t stand.
In business?
It’s adding a product just because “everyone else is doing it.”
Or refusing to evolve because “it worked in 2016.”
Both approaches will keep you stuck.
Chasing trends too late means you’re always behind.
Relying on the old standbys means you’re too early for your own party.
The hardest part of growth is knowing what’s actually yours to grow, and what you’re clinging to out of fear, habit, or obligation.
That goes for your storefront, your website, your pricing, your product lineup… and your flower beds.
Avoiding the Overbuy
So how do you avoid overbuying, whether in retail or the greenhouse?
It’s not so much about restraint but awareness.
Ask yourself:
Do I actually have the space or time to tend to all of this?
Am I buying this because it fits, or because I’m afraid of missing out?
Is this for me, or who I think I’m supposed to be?
In business, same rules apply:
Who is this really for?
Will I be able to support it after launch?
Am I filling a gap… or just filling space?
There’s power in saying, “No.”
In waiting for the right thing to bloom, on its own timeline.
In buying just what you can carry with care, not just what fills in the cart.
Because tending to less often lets more actually grow.
A Quiet Reset
Not everything needs to be optimized.
Not every plan needs to be executed.
And not every blank space needs to be filled.
Sometimes the most productive thing you can do
is pause, reassess,
and breathe.
Whether you’re looking at your backyard, your business, or your entire life…
maybe the question isn’t “What do I need to add?”
Maybe it’s,
“What can I let go of, so the good stuff finally has room to grow?”