Twolick Valley Nursery & Gift Shoppe

09/11/2026

“Mommy? Do you remember where you were on 9/11?”

In 3rd period. French class. My friend asked me if I heard the World Trade Center was on fire. I said something along the lines of “oh no!” and then continued with my class work.

4th period. American History. My teacher had the TV on. We watched the 2nd tower get hit. My teacher put her head in her hands and openly cried. “This is American history,” she said.

Kids were crying in the hallway because their parents were working in D.C.

My mom met me in the driveway crying when I got home from school. My dad was in the city. We begged him to come home. He didn’t know if he should get on the train.

Today, we remember.

We remember the lives lost on September 11, 2001. We remember the families whose lives were forever changed, the first responders who ran toward danger, and the countless acts of courage and kindness that followed.

Twenty-five years later, may we never forget not only what happened that day, but how deeply we were reminded of the importance of community, compassion, and caring for one another.

We honor and remember them today, and I think the best way to do that is to show up for each other. May we all treat each other the way we did on September 12,2001, may we all pause to remember how truly blessed we are to hug our kids and family, may we all strive to be the helpers. ❤️🤍💙

09/05/2026

09/02/2026

There’s just something about the first mums of the season.

The days are still warm, the evenings are starting to feel a little different, and suddenly you find yourself ready for porches full of color, football nights, sweatshirts, bonfires, and all the little things that make fall feel like fall.

Our mums are here and starting to show their colors — and we have plenty to choose from. 🤎

Summer isn’t quite over yet… but fall is starting to sneak in. And we’re pretty happy about it.

08/25/2026

🍂 Save the dates! 🍂

We have two fun fall activities planned at the nursery!

Saturday, September 19th at 10:00 AM — Fall Planter Class. Join us for a hands-on class and create a beautiful fall planter to enjoy all season long.

Saturday, October 3rd at 10:00 AM — Pumpkins & Hayrides. Bring the kids out for a morning of pumpkin decorating and hayrides around the nursery.

Both events will have limited space, so keep an eye out for more details and registration information coming soon!

We can’t wait to enjoy the fall season with you! 🍁

08/18/2026

Fall may be my favorite season of all…but it hurt my heart a little to take down the summer flags, mats and door decor.

…but Fall always feels like a fresh start.

Here’s to hoodies around the campfire, crunching leaves, and cozy moments with family….and beautiful front porches, of course 🍂

08/17/2026

Want main-character hydrangeas? 😎

A few things that make a BIG difference:

🌸 Know which hydrangea you have before you prune it. Some bloom on old wood, some on new wood, and pruning at the wrong time can mean sacrificing next year’s flowers.

💧 Don’t make them beg for water. Hydrangeas like consistent moisture, especially during hot, dry stretches and while they’re getting established.

☀️ Morning sun + some afternoon protection is a great setup for many hydrangeas. Exact needs vary by type.

✂️ Don’t automatically prune them every year. A hydrangea doesn’t need a haircut just because you own pruning shears.

🌱 Give them a good start. Proper planting, adequate water, and mulch around the root zone (not piled against the stems!) will do more for them than a bunch of complicated tricks.

🌸 Want bluer bigleaf/mountain hydrangeas? More acidic soil makes aluminum more available to the plant, which encourages blue flowers. Think roughly pH 5–5.5.

🩷 Want pinker blooms? Higher pH reduces aluminum availability, pushing flowers toward pink. Roughly pH 6–6.5.

⚠️ But not every hydrangea changes color! This mainly applies to bigleaf (Hydrangea macrophylla) and mountain (H. serrata) hydrangeas. White-flowering varieties generally aren’t going to magically turn blue because you dumped something on the soil. 😂

And if you’re not sure what kind of hydrangea you have or which one will work best in your yard, come ask us. That’s what we’re here for. 🌸

08/15/2026

We have beautiful plants. Arguably some of the best plants you’ll find for a pretty large radius. We work really hard to give our customers great value, and I would put our customer service up against just about anyone’s.

We’re proud of all of those things.

But this week, our most popular post ever wasn’t really about plants at all.

At least, not underneath it.

It was about my grandma and grandpa. It was about grief and memories and a rainbow on a beach. It was about the strange way something growing in your yard can become so much more than a plant because of the person attached to it.

And then something beautiful happened.

You started telling us your stories.

About the peace lily that has survived for 20 years since your mom’s funeral. The memorial garden you planted for your husband. The Stargazer lilies that make you think of your mom because she grew the biggest ones you’d ever seen. Tiger lilies that overtook a spot in the cemetery just so your daughter could let you know she is still with you. Plants that came from grandparents’ homes. Trees planted for people you loved. Gardens that became places to go when you needed to feel close to someone who isn’t here anymore.

And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that.

We live in a time that is constantly telling us we need more.

We should do more. Have more. Accomplish more. Grow more. Make more money. Have a nicer house. Build a bigger business. Take the trip. Buy the thing. Fix ourselves. Improve ourselves. Keep going, keep building, keep achieving.

And there’s nothing wrong with wanting good things or working hard to build a good life. I certainly do.

But lately I’ve found myself wondering if sometimes we get so busy building a life that we forget what the life is actually for.

Because someday, much sooner than any of us would like to think about, the things we worked so hard to accumulate will belong to somebody else. Someone else will live in our house. Someone else will run the business. Most of the things that feel incredibly important today will eventually become completely unimportant.

But somebody might walk past a flower and think of us.

Someone might tell their kids a story about something ridiculous we did 30 years ago.

Someone might make a recipe because it tastes exactly like ours did.

Someone might sit on a beach and remember all the summers we sat there together.

And maybe that’s the part that lasts.

This life is such an unbelievably short period of time.

So yes, build things. Work hard. Have goals. Make something you’re proud of.

But love people really, really well while you’re doing it.

Because when all the rest of it falls away, I’m starting to think that having loved and having been loved might be the closest thing we ever get to having had it all. ❤️

08/13/2026

In today’s episode of “asking my husband to help with social media”…

Me: Send pictures of things at the nursery that look good.

Justin: Say less. 😏😂

If you need a good looking guy to help you pick out good looking plants - we’re your nursery. 😂

08/12/2026

We haven’t posted much the last few days.

The truth is, sometimes life is bigger than business.

This year has brought a lot of loss to our family, and lately grief has been sitting a little heavier than usual.

And it’s made me think about something I’ve watched happen here for years.

People get emotional about plants.

Someone comes in looking for the exact rose their grandmother grew. Someone plants a tree for a person they love who isn’t here anymore. Someone tells us about the lilacs that grew outside their childhood home, or carefully moves a peony that’s been passed down through their family for generations.

I’ve always understood that those things mattered.

I don’t think I fully understood why until now.

Grief has a strange way of making you want something tangible. Something you can still care for. Something you can touch and water and watch change with the seasons.

Something living, when someone you love is gone.

Last week, while we were away with family, we were talking about the people who should have been there with us.

And then this rainbow appeared.

Actually — two of them.

Huge, bright, stretching right across the sky in front of us.

I know a rainbow is a rainbow.

But sometimes you don’t need to explain a beautiful thing to death.

Sometimes you just let it mean something.

Maybe that’s what a tree planted in someone’s memory is, too. Or Grandma’s peony. Or Dad’s favorite rose.

It doesn’t bring them back.

It just gives all that love somewhere to go.

And I’m starting to understand why that matters so much. ❤️