THREE TREES

THREE TREES
The horse's pasture to the East...

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

WESLEY BERRY FLOWERS , NEVER DO BUSINESS WITH THEM! or How to laugh when you're taken advantage of.

Flowers. I have a picture of myself sitting in my Grandmother's spring flower garden, my diapered little bubble butt plunked down right in the middle of her prized tulips, a cat in my lap and pollen on my face. I had been tasting her flowers. Patient soul that she was, she took a picture instead of getting upset.

The definition of FLOWER in the dictionary is: flow·er
ˈflou(ə)r/
noun
  1. 1
    the seed-bearing part of a plant, consisting of reproductive organs (stamens and carpels) that are typically surrounded by a brightly colored corolla (petals) and a green calyx (sepals).
    synonyms:bloomblossomfloweretfloret
    "blue flowers"
  2. 2
    the finest individuals out of a number of people or things.
    "the flower of college track athletes"
    synonyms:best, finest, pickchoicecreamcrème de la crèmeelite
    "the flower of the nation's youth"
verb
  1. 1
    (of a plant) produce flowers; bloom.
    "these daisies can flower as late as October"
  2. 2
    be in or reach an optimum stage of development; develop fully and richly.
    "it is there that the theory of deconstruction has flowered most extravagantly"

I've always had flowers in my life. When I was little my Grandpa would drive in to town, where we lived, and would help my brother and I to put in a garden. There were all of the usual suspects, lettuce and spinach, peas and beans, peppers, tomatoes and onions. And then there were flowers, always flowers.

He would bring carefully saved seeds from the year before, marigolds and zinnias, daffodil bulbs and tulips, morning glory and hollyhock. None of them were expensive or exotic. They were farm folks and flowers were Grandma's indulgence as she got older, something she did not allow herself while raising children and trying to hold on to a farm during the Great Depression. If you couldn't eat it, you didn't grow it.

But I was the grand daughter. I was a very good reason to have flowers, to plant flowers, save seeds and share them. My connection to flowers is a thread that weaves through my life. They bring great joy to almost everyone who sees them, smells them, plants them and watches the cycles of their lives. 

I've done guerrilla flower sowing for more than forty years, spreading wild flower seeds along country roads and ditches every where that we've lived. Even when we were very young and struggling, I would sneak out at night while my babies were asleep and plant daffodils and tulips outside the apartment house that we lived in. No one ever said a thing about it but they did enjoy them when they came up. When I drove past one of the places we had lived there were still daffodils growing there in the spring, their hardy little yellow bell shaped flowers swaying and brightening up a landscape with nothing but bushes and green grass in it.

And I love the language of flowers too. The daffodil means " You are the only one. My love is for you. " 


I love receiving flowers. I've always thought it must be fun to be the one who makes the deliveries because people always smile, always. They thank you and laugh because they're so delighted. And sometimes they cry because it's such a lovely surprise. I love thinking about the person I'm sending them to, what colors they like, what they wear, their lifestyle, what I'm trying to say with the flowers which is, always, love.

Now a days there is the internet, making it easier than ever to find a pretty bouquet from a reputable florist and sending it. It's one of my favorite activities, finding a place that is in the local area and sending them an order. So when it doesn't work out, I am not just upset or disappointed, I am shocked and angry. Flower sending is something that I invest a lot of thought, time and money in to. It's part of who I am as an artist and master gardener, organic farmer (on a small scale) and storyteller. I sometimes spend hours picking out just exactly the right bouquet to send because the language of flowers is one I learned as a girl. I love the secret meaning of flowers even if the person I'm sending them to doesn't. It's a symbol, a gift and a story painted with the flowers in a vase.

This past Saturday my son's partner was having her birthday. I wanted to let her know how happy we are to have her in the family, to tell her how much fun we've had getting to know her and her children. And I wanted the flowers to arrive on time, on her birthday. I paid extra to make sure the bouquet would be what I wanted, to have it get there when it was her birthday and on a day when I knew she would be home to receive them. So I contacted wesleyberryflowers.com and gave them my order. They have thirteen outlets listed in the city she lives in so I knew she would get them on time. 

But it didn't work out like that. They took my money, gave me the order number and nothing happened. There was no delivery. I found out about it a few days later when I texted my son to see if she liked them. No flowers. I went back, checked my account to see if the order had gone through. Yes. They had my money. I checked the numbers I had been given for the order. Yes. But no delivery. So I contacted Wesley Berry Flowers and asked to speak with a customer representative. The person who answered was from another country and english was definitely a second language for them. AND THEY HUNG UP ON ME. I called again, thinking maybe the connection was the problem. THEY HUNG UP ON ME AGAIN. I called again. THEY HUNG UP AGAIN. I called again, same thing.

This video is EXACTLY what happened to me. No one would speak to me. I was repeatedly hung up on. At last I called the original bricks and mortar place in Detroit, where they originated. The man cussed at me, told me where to go and where to put you know what. THE WORST BUSINESS I HAVE EVER ENCOUNTERED. 

I have filed complaints with the Better Business Bureau. I have gone through the procedure to get my money taken back, canceled my bank card to make sure that they can not take any other money from my account. I've posted to every social media here on line that I can think of to warn people. 

WESLEY BERRY FLOWERS is a SCAM. I hope that any person reading this makes note of the name and avoids this company on line. When I began to research this company I found whole web sites dedicated to the complaints and law suits being filed against these people. I also called FTD to let them know that they are using their logo on their website, one of the reasons I trusted them. 

On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being worst and 10 being best, I would rate WESLEY BERRY FLOWERS at -100. That's negative 100%. I WILL NEVER DO ANY BUSINESS WITH WESLEY BERRY FLOWERS again ever for any reason. And I will not hesitate to let people know about my experience either. 


What a waste of energy, time and money. Giving flowers as a gift should bring joy, comfort, happiness. It tells the recipient you love them just the way they are. It says thank you for being there. 

I do always try to find the up side of any event. That's my nature. I am basically an optimist. If you want to talk to a curmudgeon who has no manners and is possibly the worst business manager you will ever hear, call him up. He was so nasty he made me laugh! The original location is in Detroit, Michigan and their number is listed on their website. If you want a good laugh, call him and tell him about what you think of a poorly run business. He was one of the funniest asshats I have ever spoken with. 

I am, ever yours, Nancy, smiling and shaking my head at the way things go

PS. Sorry about the rant, but there are a lot of people who read my posts. Feeling bad about sending flowers, or trying to send flowers and being taken, is not something I would wish for any of you.

2 comments:

the Charioteer said...

i love flowers. especially roses. rare colored roses. especially blue or yellow. nice post. good day to you. :)

Nancy, smiling! said...

Thank you for stopping by, Charioteer. I hope you'll come back to visit. Love it when folks drop by to sit a spell.