You know how they say the truth is stranger than fiction? That was the case yesterday afternoon. I'm on a wonderful LA gardening mailing list, and get daily messages about job postings, environmental articles, events, and news. Every so often, an interesting request will come through, but I haven't been able to offer any assistance for anything yet. So yesterday when I saw the following message, I was quick to reply.
Someone is looking for a sunflower for a photo shoot:
- Full plant still growing
- Approximately 6’ tall
- Container is ok
- Center of the bloom is about 1 foot in diameter
- Must be available by Wednesday, 6/19/19.
How exciting! I had a sunflower that fit the exact description! So I fired off an email and attached this photo:
Now, maybe in my sunflower-fueled excitement, I failed to read the message correctly, but I was under the impression that someone wanted to simply take a photo of the sunflower. More specifically, I conjured the image of a jeweler wanting a huge sunflower to display some sort of necklace. Why? I haven't the foggiest clue. With that in mind, of course I wanted to help out the struggling jeweler looking to market her wares! I figured I was being a good Samaritan in the gardening community.
I received a speedy response that YES the sunflower was perfect, and she would be driving down that afternoon to come see it. When she arrived, we chatted for a few minutes about the sunflower, at which point she said, "So you'd be okay parting with it? We're desperate and prepared to offer you whatever you want for it. Just name your price."
Hold up. Sell the sunflower? Dig up a mature 6' tall majestic sunflower, covered in ladybugs and shading my kale from the harsh afternoon sunlight? What was this, some sort of bait and switch? I thought it was just for a photoshoot but now I had to grapple with suddenly being thrust into the role of blackmarket sunflower sales.
Now, I'm a chronic people pleaser and avoid conflict like the plague. Yes, I could probably work through this in therapy, and yes, I realize that neither of these is particularly healthy. But such is life. When she asked if I'd be okay parting with it, my knee jerk reaction was, "Oh yeah sure, of course. No problem at all. What do you need it for?" She said that they need it for a movie they're filming, and I won't go into details but it's a couple of big name actors and the shoot date when they'd need the sunflower is the following Monday.
I mean, maybe for a few thousand dollars I could have been persuaded to part with it, but I was uncomfortable with the whole exchange. Realizing the error of my ways, I began to back peddle with some legitimate sunflower health concerns. Namely, that the sunflower was nearing full bloom, at which point the petals would start to fall and the flower begins its gradual descent into senescence. And that digging up the sunflower would be tricky due to deep roots and the possibility of ruining the entire bed along with it. I expressed my concerns, and she countered with, "what about just the stalk and the head?"
At this point, I realized that I was adding unnecessary stress into my life. Yesterday morning, this wasn't on my radar at all. Now I was worried about how long the sunflower would stay in full bloom, how to logistically coordinate the transportation of the sunflower, how much to charge for it, and whether or not I'd be able to get it back after the shoot (because seed saving, duh!). This is a mammoth sunflower with a 9" seed head, and I certainly want to plant them again next year.
Kristian told me to stay strong and just lean on the fact that in all likelihood, the sunflower won't look the same in 10 days as it does right now. While incredibly flattered to have my sunflower referred to "a unicorn in Los Angeles," I'm going to have to quell my inner people pleaser, turn the offer down, and break the news to my MVP sunflower that she could have had a starring role next to a leading man in a movie.
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