On the Scene: A blooming business
Published in the Asbury Park Press 4/23/00
JOSEPH J. DELCONZO photos
By BOB CULLINANE
STAFF WRITER

A day at a flower farm will wash away those blues

I've never had much of a green thumb. My lawn has brown spots, my plants are droopy and every time I buy my wife flowers -- which is quite often! -- the darn things seem to swoon after just a few days.

Even the Chia Pet I bought one Christmas, which was supposed to grow a big head of bushy sprouts, ended up looking like Larry of The Three Stooges after it was struck by the rare plant disease known as male pattern baldness fungus. (Which, unfortunately, also spread to ME, but that's another story.)

My struggles with flora probably stem from the fact that most members of the plant species require more care than your average human infant. There's watering and pruning and pinching and pest control and temperature control and soil management . . . Oy!

There are sun-loving plants and shade-loving plants and those especially finicky types that require a mix of sun AND shade. Can somebody explain that to me?

But unlike infants, none of these plants cry or spit up when they need attention. No, they don't say a word; they just DIE, leaving you feeling guilty and inadequate and wondering if your mug shot is among the "Most Wanted" at the Plant Kingdom Post Office.

Which is a fear that Steve Barlow has never, ever experienced, I'm sure. No, plants and flowers LOVE Steve. They probably have a shrine erected to Steve. They probably even have a three-day weekend in which they celebrate all things Steve.

That's because Steve takes care of flowers. Good care.

"This is my passion, my love," Steve said last week as he opened the doors to one of the 30 greenhouses he tends at Barlow's Flower Farm, on the Sea Girt-Wall boundary. Inside, 600 hanging baskets brimming with radiant, colorful geraniums attested to his loving care. "I just love my job."

For the last 17 years, since he and his wife, Leslie, bought the flower farm and market on Sea Girt Avenue, Steve's job has been to grow flowers. A lot of flowers. TONS of flowers. In fact, Barlow's is the largest retail flower grower in New Jersey, according to Tom Rogers, the general manager.

"Right now," Steve said, "the greenhouses hold about 18,000 hanging baskets of flowers" and probably twice as many in flats. Outside, there are tables and tables of perennials, representing about 300 varieties, Tom said.

And in the two retail greenhouses and store, hundreds more flowers bloom.

"We have over 1,000 different types of plants," Steve said the other day. "I know every type we have and I even know their growth habits. I can walk into a greenhouse and tell immediately if something is wrong."

Which, judging by the happy, thriving specimens in the greenhouses, is not very often.

Still, unlike us horticulturally challenged folks, Steve can spot a struggling stamen from a mile away and needn't wait until a plant resembles one of Three Stooges before feeling its pain.

"I just know," Steve said of his unique connection with plants. "It's an innate thing."

Irrigation system
Steve and Leslie invited me to come by and help out around the farm for a day, and the thought of being surrounded by beautiful flowers during last week's cold and cloudy spell was irresistible.

"You won't be able to keep up with me, though," Steve said as a challenge. "I keep pretty busy."

In fact, by the time I arrived at 8 a.m., Steve had already been working for two hours, conducting rounds through his greenhouses like a concerned doctor.

"Everything depends on the weather," Steve said, explaining how he approaches his day's work. "On a cloudy day like today, there's really no need to water."

Still, Steve couldn't help but explain the elaborate watering system he devised to assure each of his floral friends gets exactly the right amount of liquid refreshment.

"Each basket has a tube," Steve said, pointing to tiny hoses that drop into every hanging basket like hospital IVs. "And each line of 125 baskets is connected to a water hose, controlled by a valve."

Steve showed me how, every morning, he kneels at the valve control and patiently waters all 18,000 hanging baskets -- 125 at a time.

"Every greenhouse is different," he said of the water needs, "and every day is different. I water the pots between 45 seconds and a minute and a half depending on the weather, the rate of evaporation, the size of the pot, the size of the plants and the temperature in the greenhouse."

Hmmm, I thought; that's just how I do it at home. So how come my plants don't look like this?

Getting my hands dirty
Every morning, Steve also gets to plant the seeds of horticultural enthusiasm into the fertile minds of students from nearby Manasquan High School.

The dozen or so students in each of two daily classes at Barlow's turn a greenhouse into a hothouse of learning, with Steve acting as sort of an educational Johnny Appleseed.

At 9:30 a.m. Tuesday, the lesson was bugs.

"The most devastating horticultural insect today is the Western Flower Thrip," Steve advised the flower children as they scribbled in their pads, "because it carries a virus. And all you need is one thrip with the virus and you can wipe out an entire greenhouse."

Luckily, this annoying bugger does not reside at Barlow's, though there are other pesky insects like Shore Flies and Fungus Gnats and Dweeby Journalists that do pay an occasional visit and could wreak havoc if not smitten immediately.

Using a microscope, Steve showed the class the distinguishing characteristics of a Shore Fly, a hairy, ugly bug that looks like a teensy version of Godzilla.

I was amazed that none of these students had the same reaction as me, which was "Ick!"

"The students all are interested in horticulture to begin with," Steve said of the program, which is funded completely by Barlow's. "That's why it's a joy to teach these kids. They all want to learn about flowers and plants."

After several hours of shadowing Steve, I was finally allowed the chance to actually TOUCH a plant, which took a lot of courage on Steve's part.

As we entered a greenhouse full of ivy flats, I could almost hear the plants emit a low-level moan when they saw me. "Isn't that the guy from the post office?" I think I heard one whisper.

Still, I was determined to do a little plantin' and, after some instruction from my ivy gurus -- Heather Machado and Meredith Killian -- I plunged ahead with my complicated assignment, which was to take three small ivy plants and plant them in one pot, thus making one larger plant. (Sounds complicated, I know.)

I performed this delicate and painstaking operation quite admirably, potting about 30,000 ivy plants in the course of about three minutes! Or was it three ivy plants in the course of 30,000 minutes?

Whatever. I just remember that Heather and Meredith were in awe of my horticultural skills and that none of the ivy plants died while in my custody. (What Heather and Meredith may have done in a jealous rage to my plants when I was gone, I can't say. But those little ivy dudes were breathing when I left. Honest, Steve.)

Peak season for plants
After several hours in the cold and wind -- and since I am not equipped with an elaborate watering system -- I needed a cup of coffee and went inside.

And it's inside Barlow's where all the work of Steve and his crew of growers can be appreciated: Two retail greenhouses are positively ablaze with colorful flowers and thriving plants.

It's here too, that Leslie oversees several more production areas where, I'm glad to report, it's warm and toasty and nobody talks about thrips.

"We're heading into our busiest time of year," Leslie said as we walked from the gourmet department, where they combine gourmet food and flowers into gift bags, to the silk department, where they take just about anything (sow's ears?) and turn it into a silk-flower masterpiece.

"Easter is a very big season, but the Saturday of Mother's Day is the biggest single day of the year. And this year," she added, "there's just three weeks between the two."

Which means that the 70 or so employees of Barlow's are working at hyper speed, making up baskets and potting plants and doing a lot of custom work.

Anne Eckman, "who was here when we came," Leslie said, was putting together such a custom plant arrangement in one of the greenhouses when I arrived.

"Want to help?" Anne asked, apparently unaware of my amazing performance with the ivy. "No," I said, "I'll just watch," figuring that there was no need, after all, to get Anne as jealous as Heather and Meredith.

Room to grow
The only problem at Barlow's, as Leslie and Steve see it, is space; there just isn't enough.

"We grow everything right here," Steve said, "but we're at maximum capacity."

"So we're hoping to expand," Leslie added. "We'd like to get a place in Middletown, and we're looking at a farm in Wall that would greatly expand our abilities."

And with their son studying horticulture at Michigan State University, such an expansion wouldn't mean that Steve would have to wake up even earlier. Although I'm sure he wouldn't mind.

"This is my passion," he said one final time. "I love what I'm doing."