Order before 2pm on a weekday and the flowers are at a Faulconbridge address that afternoon. Saturday the cutoff is 10am, and we do not run on Sundays. A florist in or near the area builds the arrangement on the day, so nothing arrives in a box off an interstate truck. Delivery is $16.95 flat, whether it goes to a bush block on the ridge roads or down to Springwood, five kilometres east. Faulconbridge Cemetery, beside the station, is on that same run. One caveat, and it is about frost. A clear July morning still leaves ice on an exposed step up here, so a winter run goes mid-morning once it lifts. It lands the same day either way. Long driveway, no number on the gate, or no idea what to send? Ring 1300 360 469.
A florist needs the afternoon to build it and still make the run, so 2pm closes the same-day list. After that, next working day.
Most of it is ridge-road bush blocks. After that, Faulconbridge Cemetery by the station, Springwood 5 km east, and the Gallery.
Watkin Wombat Way is Norman Lindsay. Snugglepot Drive is May Gibbs. Two authors, one small grid, so write the street out in full.
We have no premises in Faulconbridge. The order goes to one of our partner florists near the town. More on that trade in a second.
There is no Lily's shop in Faulconbridge, and there is no florist shopfront of any kind here. The nearest one is down the highway at Springwood. Your order lands with a florist in or near the area who builds it on the day out of what they bought at market that morning or the one before. You give up the counter. You cannot walk in and point at a bucket, and it will not be a pixel match for the photo either, because a person builds it by hand. In exchange, the order stops depending on one shop being open on a Tuesday.
The model started with one florist. We were not florists ourselves, we rehearsed the pitch the whole drive out, and the baby came along because there was nowhere else to put her. She said yes. That is running 800-odd times over now, across the greater Blue Mountains since 2009. If you live up here, driving to Springwood will be quicker; this page is for the ones ordering from down the hill.
The best thing that can happen to a bunch of flowers is a cold house.
People think altitude does something dramatic to flowers. Four hundred and fifty metres buys about five percent more UV, which is nothing you would see in a vase. What the height really buys is a cold house, and that is worth days. Chrysanthemum will run eighteen to thirty in a room like that. Carnation eighteen to twenty-four days, as long as it does not sit by the fruit bowl, because ripening fruit throws ethylene and ethylene finishes a carnation in three days.
Cold air is a gift. Frost contact is a different animal, and I have pulled apart enough winter returns to know it on sight. Ice forms inside the cell and splits the wall, so a petal that looked perfect on the step at nine has turned translucent by Wednesday. That is why a winter run waits for the frost to lift. One more, for anyone sending to a chapel. Keep the pale stems at the front, because low light takes the red out before anything else, so a deep waratah reads as a dark mass from the fourth row while cream banksia holds its shape. In fifteen years no one has ever thanked me for the construction. They thank you for the colour, and they do it in the first two seconds.
Schematic. Road distances are measured from Faulconbridge station, and the street names are the real ones, taken from the two children's authors the town named itself after.
97.7% of Faulconbridge dwellings are separate houses. Flats are 0.5%.
No intercom, no concierge, no parcel locker anywhere in it. The job here is finding the right driveway, then finding somewhere the flowers can sit safely while the house is empty.
Put on the order: a covered porch or a sheltered side door by name, plus the colour of the house or the fence, plus whether there is a dog.
Closed to new burials. Still in use for ashes reservations and family visits.
Sir Henry Parkes is buried here with his first wife Clarinda and his son Varney. Premier of New South Wales five times, and the Father of Federation. His is the largest monument in the yard, and Clarinda Avenue runs a few hundred metres away.
Say on the order: graveside visit or memorial, and the date you want it standing there.
Road distance from the station. Where the funeral directors and the hospital are.
Faulconbridge has no shopping strip of its own and no funeral home. From what our florists have seen, almost every service routes through a Springwood director, and the flowers want to be there the day before. The morning of is cutting it fine.
The order needs: the funeral director's name, the service date and the service time.
National Trust property. Open Thursday to Monday, 10am to 4pm.
A working gallery and a garden wedding venue, and the address in this suburb most likely to be taking a delivery for an event. Parking is on the street, with accessible spaces on site. We would ring them before booking anything outside their open days.
Give us: the event or wedding party name, and a day between Thursday and Monday.
You will not be standing at any of these four doors. Whoever is holding the order needs to know which one it is.
Those five boxes used to be Siobhan downstairs on the phones while I punched card numbers into an old Eftpos machine by hand, then both of us turning every order into a Word document and faxing them out, yes I said fax, then the post office, then packing bags until midnight. The job has not changed. The machines have.
The same handful of situations keeps coming up, and a box arrangement handles all of them better than a wrapped bunch does.
Sixty is the one the family flies in for, and you are the one who cannot. Two adults on the early train to Central is the ordinary shape of a weekday here. The house is empty until six, so name the drop spot on the order, a covered porch or the side door by name. Our florists tend to photograph where they left it. They will be on the bench when she walks in, and still there when the family have gone home on Sunday. That gap is what you are paying for.
Chrysanthemum and carnation, and I will not be talked out of it. I know how carnations sound. The bench ones come in tight and open across a week, and both of these will sit on a shaded porch through a July day and be worth putting in water at six. Cold air is fine. It is frost on the surface that does the damage, which is why the winter run waits for it to lift. Tulips keep growing after they are cut, two centimetres a night, and they lean toward the light, so by Thursday they have stopped looking like a present. On a 60th go a size up from wherever you are hovering. No one has ever rung me to say the bunch was too big.
Flowers do not fix it. You know that, and you are sending them anyway from ninety kilometres away, which is the whole of what they are for. Faulconbridge Cemetery is closed to new burials, so a service runs through a Springwood director. Service flowers go to that director with the date and time on the order. Graveside and memorial tributes go to the cemetery, and condolences go to the house, within three days of the notice.
Anna, on which kind of funeral you are dealing with.
A Mass at Springwood is a different job to a celebration of life in somebody's garden. For a church, the wreath is the form, and white lilies are what the family will look for. For a garden, ask for it foam-free and hand-tied in water. The families who choose that funeral notice a plastic base. Banksia and grevillea are hard-wooded and hold their shape outdoors all day, and they want the stem bases crushed or they stop drinking. Waratah is spring only and the dearest head in the market, so out of season ask for leucadendron by name. Keep the card short. Thinking of you and your family is enough, and the card is the bit that stays in a drawer for years.
The commonest order going up the mountain is a Sydney-side adult child sending to a parent who chose the bush and stayed. No occasion. Just a gap that got longer than anyone planned. There is no deadline on that except the one we set, and 2pm on a weekday puts it on the porch before they are home.
Alstroemeria, every time. Above twenty degrees it sulks and drops early. At fifteen it runs a fortnight, and often a good week past that. I have watched the same stems hold two weeks on a cool bench and fall over in seven days in a warm one. She will still be moving that vase on day twelve, about a week longer than the same bunch gives at Bondi, and it is what I reach for when there is nothing to hang it on, or an anniversary that came round faster than it should have.
No occasion, no speech.
Send something just becauseFair enough, and it is the easiest question we get. My first ever flower call, about a week into owning the place, a woman fired a run of questions at me and I had nothing. I told her to hang on while I checked with my wife. Siobhan knew less than I did.
So here is what I'd send you. A native box around the hundred and twenty mark, built foam-free with the stems sitting in water. Nobody standing at a bush-block door at six in the evening has a vase and a pair of scissors within reach, and a box has already solved that. The banksia in it grew on the NSW coast. The roses beside it flew in from Bogota, and you can see the difference by day four. If you would rather I picked the lot, Florist's Choice takes the best of that morning's market.
See the native boxesYes, and it is the quiet advantage of a house that never really warms up. A rose that gives seven to ten days in a Sydney lounge gives ten to fourteen at 450 metres, because a flower burns its own sugar about twice as fast for every ten degrees you add.
Yes, five kilometres east. Springwood runs rehabilitation, aged care and palliative care, and it has no 24-hour emergency department, so a sudden admission is more likely at Nepean in Kingswood or the ANZAC Memorial hospital at Katoomba. Put the full patient name and the ward on the order, and keep lilies out of a shared room. Palliative is the one ward where no one thinks flowers are beside the point.
Yes. National Trust property three kilometres north-east of the station, open Thursday to Monday, and it holds garden weddings through spring and early summer. Flannel flower and soft natives suit the sandstone. Give us the event name and a day they are open.
Browse by what you need
2pm weekdays for same day. 10am Saturdays. No Sunday delivery.
From $42.95. Delivery is $16.95 flat, whether the driveway runs 10 metres or 200, and on the long ridge runs it costs us more than that.
1300 360 469, 7am to 6pm weekdays and 7am to noon Saturday.
A clear July morning here sits around 5 degrees with frost on the exposed blocks, so a winter run waits for it to lift. First thing puts a bunch on an iced porch. That is slower, and we would sooner tell you now than have you ringing at four wondering where it is. It still lands the same day. Summer works the other way, because December to February brings afternoon storms off the ridge, so a summer run goes early.
Sunday comes up a lot. The markets shut Saturday afternoon, so a Sunday bunch would come off Friday stock that has already spent a day of its life in a cool room. Saturday by the 10am cutoff gets you a better flower.
Order before 2pm today, or 10am this Saturday, and it is at their door the same day.
You get an order number by email straight away. The order then leaves as a paid job, your card message attached exactly as you typed it. Typos and all. If something is wrong, send photos the same day to [email protected] or ring 1300 360 469. Two shots, the whole arrangement and a close-up, inside 24 hours while the florist still has that stock on the bench. A week later is harder.
Back when we were still taking the calls ourselves, behind the counter and later out of the spare room at Casuarina, the ones that came back were almost never about the flowers, they were about a gate, or a row of driveways and no way of telling which, from somebody who had never stood in front of the place, and one Friday the whole lot came back to us for the night (which I still think about). So the note stopped being optional. No porch, no fence colour, no dog on the order, and the florist rings the sender before the run. Costs us five minutes. Saves the day.
And if she has not sent you a photo by dinner, that means nothing. People forget. The flowers have been in the room with her since three, which was the job, whether she has got round to telling you yet or not.
ABN: 17 830 858 659
Nearby delivery areas
People picture the mountains as Katoomba weather. Down at 450 metres it is warmer, quieter and almost entirely houses. Katoomba carries the cold-end detail this page leaves alone.