You left. She didn't. Grafton has five aged care homes on both sides of the river, in a town of sixteen thousand, so an order here is rarely for a front door. It goes to a reception desk, a ward, or a funeral director, and someone walks it in while you wait in Brisbane. Andrew here. Siobhan and I have been putting flowers into the Clarence Valley since 2009, back when we faxed them out of a spare room. Order before 2pm and it is at the desk today.
A recent verified review
"Flowers are always fresh and looking amazing I've ordered a few times and always turn up the same day will always continue to order from these guys"
Macca T., verified customer, ordering repeatedly for delivery to Grafton | View on ProductReview
Thank you, and sorry we're a few months late getting back to you. A few times over is the useful bit. One good day is easy enough. Doing it again and again, likely off a different bench each time, is the harder trick. Same day into Grafton comes down to the order being in before 2pm and a florist with room that afternoon. Pleased it's gone that way for you so far. Thanks for coming back.
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Grafton Is Famous For a Flower You Cannot Put in a Vase
People ring up asking for jacaranda purple. They did it the whole time I was on the phones out of a converted garage in Pottsville, and not only in November. I had it in July once, from a bloke who drove through Grafton a decade back and never got over it. There is no jacaranda stem. There never has been. The flower is a soft trumpet on a brittle woody tree, it bruises if you look at it sideways, and it lets go about a day after cutting. You have never seen one in a bucket at a market, and that is the reason.
So what a florist reaches for when you say jacaranda is a substitute for the colour, never the flower. Lisianthus in early bud is the closest thing in the trade to that soft violet blue, and it has the decency to open over a week instead of dropping in a day. Delphinium gets the colour and then betrays you, because it is ethylene sensitive, which in plain terms means one bowl of Clarence Valley mandarins on the same bench and every floret quits overnight.
The callers were always disappointed for about ten seconds. Then they were fine. Nobody wants a jacaranda in a vase. It would be finished before they got home. They want the feeling of Prince Street in November, and a good lisianthus gets you there. Ask for it closed. It will still be going when the real ones are on the footpath.
Anna's substitution card
Ask a florist for "jacaranda purple". This is what turns up.
Grafton is the flower town with no flower to sell. There is no jacaranda stem in any bucket in Australia. Tap through what a florist reaches for instead, and how close each one really gets.
Jacaranda
Jacaranda mimosifolia
Lisianthus, in early bud
Eustoma grandiflorum
Delphinium
Delphinium elatum
Purple singapore orchid
Dendrobium
Statice
Limonium sinuatum
Swatches show the colour a florist is aiming at. Screens vary, so treat them as a guide. Vase life figures are for Grafton conditions: a 30.2°C mean January maximum against a 6.9°C mean July minimum, recorded at the Grafton Research Station since 1917.
Grafton gets talked about as though it is a long way from everything, and for roses that is fair enough. The truck comes down from the Brisbane market at Rocklea, three hundred and thirty kilometres of highway, and a rose that rides it is a day older by the time the florist opens the box. Peonies, ranunculus, David Austins, all on the same truck. The natives never get on it. Banksia, grevillea, kangaroo paw: this coast grows them, and there is a grower out on Old Lillypool Road in South Grafton. Those stems were in the ground closer to the recipient than the truck depot is. That is a geography accident and we will take it.
There is no warehouse anywhere in this. What there is, is a cool room, a truck that came down overnight, and a paddock up the road that grew the banksia. Three supply lines walk into one bunch. Only one of them is a compromise.
* What happens to a Grafton order once it lands in our system, chalked out by us.
Grafton is where the whole Clarence comes to be born, treated, sentenced and buried, and the flower orders follow that almost exactly. This is not a birthday town. Three situations account for most of what we send here, and each one goes wrong in its own particular way, so they are worth separating before you pick anything. A funeral and a hospital ward want completely different things out of a bunch. Natives are one of the few things that suit both.
Flowers do not fix this and you already know that. They are what you send when you cannot be in the room, and everyone in the room understands the code.
There are two gestures here and they go to two different addresses. Condolence flowers go to the family's house, usually inside three days. Service flowers, the wreaths and sheaves and casket work, go to the funeral director with the full name of the person who died and the date and time of the service. Without the service time the florist cannot land it, and late to a funeral is the one delivery nobody can repair. Grafton has three funeral directors for a town this size, and one of them has the crematorium on site on Prince Street, which quietly changes the pattern: cremation services generate more flowers at the house afterwards and fewer at a graveside.
The other thing to get right is which cemetery. Grafton has three and only one of them is still taking new interments. Clarence Lawn, out on Armidale Road in South Grafton, does the burials. The old grounds on Villiers Street and on the Bent and Tyson corner are reserved plots only, which means nearly everyone in them has been there a very long time. Every so often somebody gives us one of those two as a funeral address, and it is almost always wrong. Our partner florist in or close to Grafton catches it before the flowers move.
Put your full name on the card, too. The family is reading fifty of them, and "love, Kaz" means nothing to a husband who has never met you. There are no right words and nobody expects you to find them, so "thinking of you and your family" is enough. The flowers are gone inside a fortnight. The card goes in a drawer and stays there for years.
Clarence Lawn is a lawn cemetery, and that changes the vase. Grass will not hold one upright. On lawn, a wreath or a sheaf sits flat and stays put. On the old grounds, stone surrounds hold a vase up.
Three nations meet at this river. Bundjalung on the north bank, Gumbaynggirr on the south, Yaegl downstream. If a caller told me the family was Aboriginal, I asked whether they had checked with the family first. Every community is different, and Sorry Business runs for as long as it runs. If flowers were welcome, natives every time. Banksia, wattle, kangaroo paw. Those connect to Country in a way an imported rose never will. I never assumed. Neither should the florist.
You have not been down since Easter. It is a four hour drive each way and something has come up every single time. Both of those can be true at once.
The worry here is rarely the flowers. It is whether she will know who they came from, which means the card does more work than the stems do. Put your full name on it, not "love, your girl". Put her full name and the facility name in the delivery notes, because "Mum, Whiddon" will not find her. There are a hundred and ten rooms in that building and reception cannot go door to door guessing. Expect a lag once it lands, too. Sometimes an hour, sometimes the rest of a shift. Reception has a desk to run and forty other things on it.
We send a lot of eightieth birthday arrangements into this valley and hardly any thirtieths, so this is the order we handle more than any other. Thinking of you flowers need no reason attached either. Nobody has ever complained about being thought of on a Wednesday, and if you are stuck on the card, "just wanted you to know I'm thinking of you" has never once been the wrong thing to write.
Whiddon runs a secure wing on top of that, twenty three rooms. If that is where you are sending, she may not know who they came from, or that they came at all. The flowers might mean more to you than to them. That is okay. Send them anyway.
A woman rang me once from Perth wanting the biggest thing we had for her mother in a nursing home. I talked her down to about a third of it, and not to save her money. A big bunch on a small bedside table becomes the staff's problem by Thursday, and it gets shifted to a windowsill where she cannot see it from the bed. Small, low, boxed, no water to knock over, nothing that needs a vase found for it. Her mother had that little box in front of her for a fortnight. The big one would have lasted three days in her eyeline and then gone to live behind a curtain.
You cannot get there, and somebody else is doing the drive twice a day. Flowers are what you send when you cannot sit in the chair beside the bed.
Grafton Base is the only base hospital for the mid Clarence, so the patient is very often not a Grafton person at all. They came in from Ulmarra or Coutts Crossing or Copmanhurst, and the family doing that drive is still out there.
From what our florists have seen, get well flowers go to the main reception on Arthur Street, a ward clerk takes them in, and nursing staff do the last leg to the bedside. Anywhere between half an hour and three hours, depending on what else the ward is doing. Full name and ward number in the delivery notes, because reception is not going to go looking for a surname.
I used to do these runs myself, back when we still had the shop. Murwillumbah Hospital, Asha screaming in the back of the car, thirty seven degrees outside, five minutes to get the flowers to reception and nowhere in the street to park. So the ward number in the notes matters more than it looks. With it, a nurse walks it in. Without it, the bunch sits on the desk until somebody has a spare minute.
Send it to the house instead. A base hospital with a short stay unit turns people around quickly, and the bunch you sent on Tuesday afternoon can arrive after the patient has been driven back out to Ulmarra. Under a couple of days, the house wins every time. If they are properly staying put, skip the lilies. Pollen, heavy fragrance and a four bed bay do not go together, and lilies were the most declined stem in any ward I dealt with. Roses, gerberas, carnations, chrysanthemums, natives, all fine. Send it boxed rather than hand tied. Nobody on that ward has a spare vase or ten minutes to find one.
Order before 2pm and the florist still has the afternoon to work with.
Let the Florist ChooseMost orders are not a category. They are a person you were thinking about on a Wednesday for no particular reason, and none of the three above covers that. If you want the Grafton answer, Anna has one.
Purple. All year, not only in November. The Purple and Lilac Bunch is the closest thing on our site to what this town looks like for about four weeks a year, and the strange part is that it works best in July, when the trees are bare sticks and nobody outside the valley is thinking about jacarandas at all. If the budget is tight, purple travels better than most colours at the lower end, because statice and lisianthus both punch well above what they cost, so there is no shame in the under sixty end of the range here.
We come through Grafton twice in a normal year, in a manner of speaking. Every December we stop on the way to Wooli, which means the Bi-Lo, or whatever it is called now, then the Maccas car park, then a BCF run because somebody has forgotten the camp chairs. Nobody photographs that trip. Then every couple of years we come down properly, in late October, for the Jacaranda Festival, which has been running since 1935 and is the oldest floral festival in the country.
The first time we took them, Ivy and Asha stopped talking. Not for effect. They just stood on a footpath they could not see for fallen purple and went quiet. I have never had a review that good.
* Asha and Ivy in Grafton, after their drama competitions, standing in the November drop. The trees were nearly done by then. The footpath was not.
1300 360 469
7am to 6pm weekdays
10am Saturdays
Or order online any time. Phone or online, it lands in the same system and goes out on the same run.
2pm weekdays, 10am Saturdays, no Sunday. In January ask for a morning run, because a 30 degree afternoon on a west facing porch is harder on a bunch than the drive ever was. Late October the main streets shut for the Jacaranda Festival and forty thousand people arrive. Order earlier that week.
Subsidised, and the same on both banks. Junction Hill, Clarenza and Waterview Heights are the ones to put a driveway description against. Out that way the GPS stops at the road. The house is somewhere past that.
The levee holds Grafton to about 7.95 metres on the Prince Street gauge. Big River Way can close south of town at Alipou Creek from 5.90, and the Clarenza spillway goes over at 6.00. So there is a two metre window where you watch the news, see that the Grafton levee is holding, and reasonably conclude the flowers went. The florist is at the bench with stock in the cool room, and the road to the address is under water. Nothing about that is the florist's fault and we are not going to pretend otherwise.
My grandmother used to tell it from the years before any of that infrastructure existed: water up to the rooflines, snakes swimming through the houses looking for a ceiling joist, neighbours going door to door in tinnies. I never saw it. She never got over it. When the road goes now, you get a phone call and a new date from us rather than silence and a tracking page that says nothing.
Order before 2pm today and it is at the address this afternoon.
By about two o'clock your order is on a bench in or near Grafton and out of our hands. The florist builds it that morning from what they bought at market that week. Nothing in it has been sitting in a box since Tuesday. You will not see it before it goes, and there is no honest way around that part. Anyone who tells you otherwise is describing a photo rather than a promise.
The calls that taught us the cutoff were the late ones. A 3pm Friday order for same day delivery is asking the system to do something it cannot reliably do, and in a town cut in half by a river it is worse than most. Two bridges join the banks. A florist with a funeral on the south side and a ward on the north crosses the Clarence twice to finish the afternoon. So we hold the line at 2pm on weekdays and 10am on Saturdays, and we do not make exceptions, including for ourselves. The ones who miss it get the next day, which is a worse answer than they wanted and a much better one than a bunch that turns up wrong.
The part nobody warns you about is the silence afterwards. You have sent them, you know roughly when they landed, and then there is nothing for hours and you start wondering whether they were awful, or whether she just did not like them (she liked them). People forget to text. Especially people in hospital, and people who have had a very long week, and people who are eighty and have never photographed anything in their lives. Give it a day before you assume the worst. She has already seen them, and that happened whether or not you ever hear about it.
If something has gone wrong, ring 1300 360 469 between 7am and 6pm on a weekday, or from 10am on a Saturday. Email [email protected] if it can wait. The phone is faster, and it is one of us on the other end of it.
ABN: 17 830 858 659
Yamba and Maclean are the Lower Clarence, downstream where the river finally gets to the sea. Coffs Harbour is the next city south, and it tends to be where people end up when Grafton Base refers them on, so if your person has been moved, start there instead.