Our Story

Wildflower Farm In Winter

Welcome to the dream I am living. Welcome to Wildflower Farm, a 5 acre, colonial homestead in the heart of New England. The air smells of the forest behind us, the cold, and the snow in winter. In the spring, you can smell the forest, the fog, and early spring flowers that grow wild all over the property. Summer, the smell of cut grass rivals the forest and the fragrance of apple blossoms and berries hang in the breeze. The autumn air is invaded by the aroma of the leaves changing color, apples, and harvest. This is my home now.

It was not always my home. For many years I roamed the planet, an international gypsy, following my husband going where the winds of his career carried us. Canada, Austria.... A stop in Finland, and a brief stay in Prague, and so many other places. And in each new beautiful place, a dream lingered. An old dream that I had first dreamed as a little girl.

This dream began as a 5 year plan that actually took about seven years and didn't turn out quite as I dreamed that it would. My mother and I made a plan to move to the country... Her idea of country was an acre of land in a ritzy suburb of Boston MA. Mine, was something that looked a bit more like a big farm, with animals and large gardens and fields..... As I grew, I realized I was not being realistic. One woman with hundreds of acres and a massive load of animals would not end well. And my dream began to change.... Just a bit. Soon, I was dreaming of an old fashioned farmhouse on a small acreage. Big enough for some animals and lots of fun, but not so big that it would be unmanageable.

Finally, after years of nomadic wandering about the globe, we found ourselves ready to settle down. I insisted on a country that had English as the primary language, and I wanted to be closer to family. So, we found ourselves back where I started..... Here in the Bay State. We looked and looked and found this wonderful magical place where the wildflowers dominate the grassy areas, the birds sing, and the forest beckons, telling tales of sugar maples just waiting to be tapped.

Here along the back roads of New England, we have settled. Here we care for our old fashioned homestead and here I run a small bed and breakfast. This is a dream that makes my heart glad. I hope, as I share my joy with you that it warms your heart as well. So please, stick around to dream this magical dream with me.