These Gifts of Mine... The Message of Christmas

My children asked me, "Mom, what do you want for Christmas?"

I replied, "Come home."

They laugh.  "Mom, what do you want for Christmas?"  "I want you home." and the phrase repeats over and over in my head.  "I want you home.  I want my family home."

My children know me, whether I answer them as they wish or not, and they gave such wonderful gifts this Christmas:  gifts exchanged among wife and husband, children and grandchildren.  So many gifts.  So blessed.  Family gathered in a circle upstairs, Luke II read by grandson, packages taken from under the tree--and in the tree--by another grandson as each name and giver of the gift was read.  Laughter.  Teasing.  Joking.  Thank yous.  Gifts finally all dispersed and time given for each tag to be read, each gift opened, remarks made and especially thanking the giver as we went around the circle.  A family circle.  A family come home.  From out of nowhere, a remembrance of loved ones who could not come home suddenly flooded my thoughts.  Tears choked back knowing there were no gifts under the tree, or in a pile because some of our loved ones would not be home this year or ever again.

My daughter and my son both gave me gifts of bees:  precious, sweet, thoughtful.  I opened the first gift and wrapped the bee scarf around my neck.  It looked at home with the sparkley, golden shirt a once tiny grandson had chosen as his gift for me many Chrismases ago.  Then, when everyone had opened a gift and it came my turn again, I chose a big, square box. A perfect bee cookie jar!  For me!  First, a bee scarf and now a bee cookie jar!  "Where are you going?" my family asked as I grabbed the cookie jar and ran down the stairs.  Home.  This gift had a forever home downstairs on my kitchen table.

"Is there anything else?" I was asked.  I thought.  I shook my head back and forth.  No, I couldn't think of anything.  I could think of nothing but that my family be home.  Gathered around the table:  laughing, eating, a joyful noise for their mom!  That is what I yearned for the most this Christmas.  "Is there any saying you like, mom?" asked my son.

"Yes," I replied.  "There is a 15th Century Nun's Prayer that I like."  I read it to them.  They laughed.  This nun knew their mom on intimate terms, even if they never met and one was born in the 15th century.

Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody: helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all but Thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others’ pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint – some of them are so hard to live with – but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, Lord, the grace to tell them so.

Amen

"Anything else?" my son asked.  "Yes."  I replied.  "I want something to remind me of Little Duck."

And, so it was, on Christmas Eve, I received Little Duck.  I cried when I opened this gift.  My family cried with me.  I again grabbed the gift and ran down the stairs.  My family didn't ask where I was going this time.  They knew I was taking Little Duck to his forever home.  Little Duck is on the lamp overlooking my chair.  He will constantly be a reminder of how fragile life is, to be kind and always, no matter what, embrace and say "I love you" when saying goodbye for, who knows, it could be for the last time.

Christmas is over physically but emotionally, this Christmas lingers on in my heart.  My family was home for such a short time.  They are now in their respective homes, as it should be for grownup children.  But, for that brief moment in time, our home resounded with laughter and talking and cooking (and eating more and richer foods than any human should).  I am overwhelmed as I write this of the love my family and friends displayed.  More than the physical gifts; their love manifested itself in its actions towards me, towards one another and towards those whom they came into contact.  There is a children's poem, entitled "Message of Christmas" by Rega Kramer McCarty that goes...

"What did the Christ Child teach us

By the humbleness of His birth?

What word came easiest to His lips,

As He walked with men on earth?

What spirit exemplifies His life,

A commandment for God above--

What is the message of Christmas time...

The wonderful message of LOVE.

And, so, from my house to your house, I wish you a belated Merry Christmas.  

Come Home, It's Harvest Time

It's a Sunday, a beautiful day outside, frost on the ground, leaves that are left on the trees are a plethora of reds, oranges, yellows with touches of lime green and I'm a little melancholy today.  It is fall:  Gene turned back the clocks one hour last night and yesterday, while I was busy getting ready for holiday shows, he and the boys loaded up the apples in the pickup, drove  to Kristi's next door and made apple cider.  It was reminiscent:  the last time we made apple cider, Gary was alive.  Mixing the different varieties of apples, Gary made the best apple cider I ever drank.  When people come to visit, we put a little caramel topping in the bottom of a cup, pour in some heated cider, put some whipping cream on top of that, a drizzle of caramel topping and three red hot candies and we would have in our hands a powerful lipsmacking, ahhhh-inspiring fall drink.

The boys came over a few weeks ago and helped Gene pick the apples.  Another one of those crisp, fall days, we could not have asked for better weather for picking (and grinning):  Delicious, Granny Smith, Northern Spy (and a few other varieties) blended into one mindblowing liquid.  Each apple variety bringing its own flavoring to make the little taste buds explode with ecstasy and, believe you me when I say our little taste buds were working overtime with the vision of what these little fruits were about to bestow upon us.  We were provided a bountiful harvest this year, small, firm, juicy--it makes my mouth water just thinking (and writing) about them.  

 Gene brought out the hand cart and an empty box and he, Nick and Jake started on the Yellow Delicious tree.  The barrage of trash talk these three voiced kept me on the second story deck longer than needed to snap these photos.  I needed to be in the house getting things done but it was such a joy to my heart to watch these three with one another.  I did not, however, want to get caught in the quick sharp-tongued wit of these three.  Each one comes with their own expertise in describing the downfall of the other and, at times, it was hard to hold the camera still.  However, I did listen and I did learn each one's strengths and weaknesses... as least some of them, as seen through the eyes of the other two.  

 Once through picking the apples off the Yellow Delicious tree, it was time to move on to the Red Delicious tree.  Grandpa gets out the tractor, Nick hops into the bucket, and Nick and the bucket are lifted up to the higher tree branches.  The deer and I love this tree.  There is something satisfying to go outside and work, then, when the growlies (before the hungries) come, just go pick a couple apples off the tree and munch on them.  It helps to take the edge off the hungries and I can stay outside a little longer.  This apple orchard not only fed Gene and I, it also fed many deer who found respite from the many humans and dogs in the area.  We left them alone, enjoying their beauty--fawn, doe and buck--and the peacefulness they brought to the orchard as they munched on apples, always vigilant of where we were, and then laid down after having a meal.

Jake has the apple picker and, as you can see, he loves me.  Nick and Jake keep my little gray cells turning.  I love listening to them, listen to their views on the world, views of each other (remember, they are brothers!), views on their grandpa and grandma (we are loved but need to become more tuned in to the 21st Century--much, much more), meet their friends and listen to their interaction with one another.  These two young people are our future and, as I see it, the future is exciting and bright and positively good.    I look at them and, sometimes, I just well up inside because of who they are and who they have become.Yuck!  The thought of having to change their diapers when they were babies just popped unexpectedly into my head so, there goes that gooey lovey-dovey thought (and the tears in my eyes quickly vanished as well)!  

The outcome of all that hard work on the beautiful fall days was about 30 gallons of cider.  When I was a little girl, we use to sing a song, "Come home, come home, it's supper time.  The shadows lengthen fast.  Come home, come home, it's supper time.  I'm going home at last."   For some reason, as the apples were being harvested, I thought of this song and how it reasonated with my life.  Another fall, another harvest.  Another coming home and preparing for the winter.  Whether it is with the bounty of the earthly harvest, or the bounty of the heavenly harvest, the thought struck me and there is comfort in knowing we will all go home at last.

Jim Reeves – Suppertime Lyrics

Many years ago in days of childhood
I used to play till evenin' shadows come
Then windin' down that old familiar pathway
I'd hear my mother call at set of sun
Come home, come home it's supper time
The shadows lengthen fast
Come home, come home it's supper time
We're going home at last
Some of the fondest memories of my childhood
Were woven around supper time
When my mother used to call
From the backsteps of the old homeplace
"Come on home now son, it's supper time"
Ah, but I'd love to hear that once more
But you know for me time has woven the realization of
The truth that's even more thrilling and that's when
The call come up from the portals of glory
To come home, for it's supper time
When all of God's children
Shall gather around the table
Of the Lord himself
And the greatest supper time of them all
Come home, come home, it's supper time
The shadows lengthen fast
Come home, come home, it's supper time
We're going home at last

Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue

I have been all day reading about and posting on the website of Still Waters Lavender (www.stillwaterslavender.com):  so much to learn that it frazzles the brain.  Three "old" products still stay on the website:  standard lavender wands, chicken moth repellents (can't seem to keep them in stock) and dried lavender buds for sell.  In the "Dried Lavender Buds" category, there are angustifolia (aka English Lavender):  'Folgate' (this is my husband's favorite lavender), 'True Hidcote', 'Miss Katherine' (a sweet-tasting lavender), 'Sachet' (I've used all this in my sachets this year so have none to sell), 'Purple Bouquet' (beautiful wreaths), and 'Melissa'.    Lavendula x intermedia:  'Grosso' (wonderful in sachets, potpourris), 'Gros Bleu' (these are deep blue and beautiful next to the 'Edelweiss'), 'Edelweiss' (a white lavender) and beautiful 'Impress Purple' (I just liked walking by this one in the field).  I also posted three new items Still Waters Lavender will offer this year:

1.  Provence Lavender Wand:  I first saw these in Seattle at Pike's Market.  Beautiful and different and I couldn't get them off my mind... I had never seen anything like them and I couldn't figure out how to make them.  Finally, I found instructions on how to make them and, voila!

2.  Linen Pillows:  Did you know you can use your printer to print on fabric!  I didn't until this summer and it is so much fun.  Find a saying, buy some fabric and you're on your way to creating some personal and fun items for your home.  Add in lavender and, not only is it personal and fun, it's downright good smelling!  I made one for a friend who had lost a much beloved animal.  She cried, I cried:  it was a joy to make and, I hope, a loving remembrance for her.
3.  Hardanger White-on-White Lavender-Filled Sachet/Ornament:   Hardanger is beautiful and practical!  It is also unforgiving!  If starts out as a simple whip stitch but, if you are off one little thread, then it's time to start unraveling because it has to be accurate.  I love to look through the Hardanger books because of the most exquisite beautiful patterns and photographs of the finished product.  There are stitches I never will learn, hand crafted by women of unbelievable talent.  However, there are some simple stitches I do and I made them into sachets/ornaments filled as full as I could get them with 'Grosso' lavender.

Now that I look at the title of this post, perhaps I should revise the saying to be more accurate:  "some things old, some things new, ideas borrowed and lavender, too".

How to Crochet a Christmas Lavender Ornament

The doll on the left is crocheted with doublestitch;
the doll on the right is crocheted with treble stitch.

Supplies Needed:  Crochet Thread #5,
Crochet Needle #5, Dried Lavender on Stem
 and Scissors

Glue and Wooden Beads

Body: chain 15. Close with slip stitch. Then three rows of treble crochet (or double crochet). Then five rows of chain 5 (4) and single stitch in loop.

Arms: Tie about 18 inches of thread around bead and 9 chain stitch crochet both threads.

Tie the thread off by pulling it through the loop and then fasten on either side of crochet body.

Hat: 5 chains, join with slip stitch. Then chain 4 (3), and 19 treble crochet (dc) twice. two chains then sc in next treble crochet (dc), sc. Finish row. Then rows 5-9 are treble crochet (double crochet) in each sc making two rows. This is the brim. For the hanger, chain 40 and attach to top of hat. Be careful where you place the hanger because the ornament will tip too much if placed too far back. Glue the hat onto a wooden ball.

Take a bunch of lavender, tie it off and place in skirt. Take a short piece of thread and tie around doll, tie down arms to side and tie ends into a bow. Break off the extra lavender stems and apply glue. Tie a small length of crochet thread around the arms and tie a bow.  (This holds on the lavender as well as holds the arms down.)

 We are now ready to assemble the head to the body. Let dry and, voila, a Christmas ornament!

Not only the varigated purple and purple, but try other colors of thread!  

Death Comes With a Pounce... In Memory of Little Duck, Zeus and Nellie

My precious Little Duck, Zeus and Nellie were killed today by a dog.  If the dog had been hungry, I could more readily accept and move on.  But the dog was not hungry;he deliberately killed those little ducks in a frenzy for the sake of killing.  How frightened those babies must have been.  

Nick took the shovel and dug the holes in the flower bed around the flag pole.  We buried Little Duck, Zeus and Nellie together. 

Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,

And whether he's slow or spry,

It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts,

But only how did you die?

(From "How Did You Die" by Edmund Vance Cooke)

Good bye, my precious Little Duck

Good bye, funny little Zeus and Nellie 

You will always be a moment of wonder to me.

The Saga of Little Duck...continues

Little Duck has been with us now for one week.   We brought the three ducklings--Little Duck, Zeus and Nellie--outside.  We then sat out there most of the day under the tree watching the three little ducks.  When we brought them in, they had clean shavings, water and feeders full.  Baby chicks didn't seem to miss them.

Where Did You Come From? The Saga of a Little Duck

This is the story of Little Duck.  We do not know where she came from:  we only know she is here and we feel blessed that she is now part of our lives.  The first time we saw Little Duck, she was frantically running north in the middle of the lavender field at Hearth Cricket Farm on August 30, 2014 in the middle of the day. What was a baby duck doing out here all alone in the middle of the lavender field?  The baby duck became entangled in some weeds and I cupped by hands and scooped her up.  "Where did you come from, little duck?" I asked.  "How did you get out here?"  She did not struggle but looked out at me with such acceptance of her circumstance.  Such a tiny creature in such a large field and all alone.  I walked towards my husband and daughter who were working the tractor and the weeder.  My daughter looked up, "What's ya got there, mom?" she asked.  "Guess!"  I whispered.  I couldn't talk; I was participating in a mystery: this tiny wisp of life was bigger than the moment I was in.   "What?"  my husband and daughter shouted in unison.  I tried to talk again.  Kristi saw the little yellow tail sticking out the other end of my cupped hands and exclaimed, "A baby chick."  I shook by head side-to-side.  "No," I mouthed.  I opened my cupped hands very slowly until they could see the tiny little fuzzy yellow head with the button eyes and little bill that still had the "egg tooth".  "A duck!  Where did you find a baby duck?"  I told them the story and we started looking for a nest.  My husband was sick, thinking he might have run over a nest of baby ducks.  But, as hard as we looked, we couldn't find any other ducks.  My younger grandson, Jake, curiosity getting the better of him, came over.  Then, my older grandson, Nick, came walking across the field to see what was going on.  "Well, grandma", Nick said as he threw his arms around me.  "You now have your duck for your pond."   I was overcome with emotion:  a duck, a perfect little yellow, fuzzy baby duck that just appeared from nowhere!  There she was sitting in my hand as quiet as could be with those button black eyes.  She was just what I wanted!

We started looking under the bushes, under the weeds, in the trees, outside the field in the grasses lining the roads, in the goat pasture, in the rocks--anywhere the little fellow might have come from so we could put her back with her family but to no avail.  No other baby ducks; no nest; no mother.  A mystery!  My daughter fetched her carrier; we put straw and some water in the carrier and sat it out in the field as the little duck cried for her family.  We listened to her calling for her family but there was no answer; no other cry save the one from the little duck trapped in a carrier.  Finally, we brought her to the house. She was shivering and we knew we had to do something more for her or she would die.  We watched in amazement as she climbed the walls of the carrier:  what kind of duck climbs like that--using the claws on the end of her feet to hang on to the sides of the carrier... and what kind of duck has claws!

Kristi and I dragged the horse watering trough into the hallway, lined it with straw and hung a heat lamp up.  We put water and baby duck in the trough and she immediately sat under the heat lamp.  My husband and Kristi went to town and purchased food and, since babies shouldn't be alone, Kristi bought some baby chickens to keep the baby duck company.  Under the heat lamp, baby duck stopped shivering; she also liked swimming in the tiny plastic tub I put in the trough.  With the coming of the baby chicks; however, we took out the plastic tub because we were afraid the baby chickens would drown.  Poor baby duck!  We put food in:  the round plastic container and the metal oval container held duck food; the  long red container belonged to the baby chicks.  But, baby chicks are little pigs and didn't care what the food was in:  they wanted it all!  One baby chick decided she was queen of the hill, climbed up on the metal oval container, right in the middle of the food, and went to sleep. We decided to name baby duck Jesus (if a boy) and Jesusa (if a girl).  A most precious gift, a mystery was our little Jesus/Jesusa and we wanted to give her/him a fitting name.

Kristi inquired among her friends and they asked if there were any marks on baby duck.  "No," Kristi said.  The answer coming from Kristi's friends was that if there had been marks on baby duck, then it was likely that a bird of prey--hawk, most likely--had snatched baby duck and, for whatever reason, had released her over the lavender farm.  Another response was that, if there were no marks on baby duck, a crow most likely snatched her, couldn't hold on to her and baby duck fell to the earth.  Since we were there, the crow couldn't reclaim his victim and flew away.  Crows have a regular flying pattern around here so this seemed to be the most likely answer.  However, we have wanted (and looked for) ducks for a long time and prefer to believe Jesus/Jesusa is a gift from heaven (and we definitely do not want to look a gift duck in the mouth, so to speak).

Jesus/Jesusa and Jake--we love baby duck

We were on a roll for ducks!  A friend told Kristi that a friend of hers had a mama duck who was mean to her babies and that we could have them if we went and picked them up. "How much?" we asked.  "Free!" was the answer.  Free is a very good price and so Kristi, Jake and I piled into the car and headed to Prineville to pick two more baby ducks up.  "You have to catch them," they said.  "Okey, dokey.  No problem!" we responded.  Kristi plugged in the address on her gps and away we went down the road, carrier in the back full of straw and passengers in the car with visions of waddling duck tails in their heads.  We pulled into the driveway, Kristi and Jake hopped out of the car, the fellow came out of the house and all three hopped over an electric fence and walked  to an outbuilding.  The fellow handed Kristi this huge butterfly net and said, "There they are!" as he pointed to two little ducks waddling behind four bigger ducklings who were behind the mama duck who had adopted the two littler baby ducks.  I saw the butterfly net go down, I saw Kristi getting the baby duck out of the net and handing it off to Jake.  I saw Jake as he hopped the electric fence (I cringed each time he hopped that fence) and gently put the first baby duck into the carrier and then hopping the fence again and running across the lawn to his mom who had captured the second baby duck in the butterfly net.  Kristi handed off the second baby duck to Jake who hopped over the electric fence a fourth time (careful, Jake) and put the second baby duck in with her sibling.  Kristi thanked the fellow and then she and Jake came back to the car (fifth hop over the electric fence for Jake, second hop for Kristi) and put the little baby ducks in the back of the car.  Off we went, happy as we could be with two--a little bit older than our baby duck--baby ducks.  We talked over names for the two older baby ducks and Jake named the two ducks Zeus and Nellie.  Where that morning I had no ducks; I now had three!  Could life get any sweeter!

We came home and put Zeus and Nellie in the trough with Jesus/Jesusa.  The baby chicks were little beasts--pecking and just being annoying--towards the two older baby ducks.  "Who are you?  Where did you come from?  You smell funny!"  We could almost hear the baby chicks saying to the older baby ducks.  The older baby ducks took the pecking and the annoying little baby chickens for as long as they could and then they started defending themselves.  "Oh," I thought.  "This doesn't look so good!"  But as time went on, things settled down and the babies started behaving themselves and getting along.

Baby Duck with Baby Chicks

Baby Duck with Two Older Baby Ducks

Where did little baby duck come from, I ask myself.  It is a wonderful mystery that, more than likely, shall never be explained.  We can conjecture but, sometimes, we need those moments of wonder.  Sometimes, like baby duck, it's just best to accept the circumstance.  Sometimes, I forget to just be thankful.   I am thankful for this little duck.  Welcome, Little Duck, to your new home.  We make you kindly welcome.

2014 Long Stemmed Lavender Varieties Ready to Harvest (Instructions on Drying Lavender Included)

Lavendula x intermedia 'Grosso'.

The principle of drying flowers is to 

remove the moisture from them while 

retaining their original shape and color.

Five long-stemmed lavender varieties, Lavendula x intermedia 'Grosso', 'Gros Bleu', 'Edelweiss', 'Impress Purple', and 'Super' are ready to be harvested.  U-pick is $5/bundle; I-pick is $8/bundle (a bundle is 125 stems).   We also are offering an English lavender, Lavendula angustifolia' Purple Bouquet.  This lavender is beautiful in wreaths.  All six of these lavenders hang dry well. 

Still Waters Lavender is open Wednesday-Saturday, 10a-6p. 

Please provide your own cutting utensil.

"Flowers of lavender quilted in a cap, comfort the brain very well."
-William Turner, written in 1551-

Lavendula x intermedia 'Gros Blue".

Good air circulation will ensure that your flowers dry as quickly as possible, 

which will result in better color preservation and cut down on the possible growth of mold.   

Lavendula x intermedia 'Edelweiss'.
Cut the full length of the stem.
Strip all leaves from stems.

Lavendula x intermedia 'Impress Purple'
 Gather lavender into small bunches,
fasten each bunch at the end with a rubber band.

Lavendula x intermedia 'Super'.
Hang the bunches so that air can pass between them.

Lavendula angustifolia 'Purple Bouquet'.
Hang the bunches away from direct light.

 L.ang 'Purple Bouquet''.
If there is too much light, cover each bunch with a paper bag,
tying the open top of the bag around the stems with string.
It takes approximately two weeks for lavender to dry.

"Nothing is ever wasted if it makes a happy memory."

... The Weapons of a Farmer are Mighty...

Did you know that one knapweed plant can produce up to 25,000 seeds per year?  I read that little tidbit in a pamphlet I picked up at the Deschutes County Fair this year.  Along with knapweed, we have some other nasty noxious invaders that are a scourge to us as well as to our animals.  Internet searching, reading everything we can get our hands on, talking to various agencies and scratching our heads for answers on how to get rid of the weeds is a constant war for my husband and I and we plan on winning.  Not only do weeds threaten our plants economically, they threaten our land ecologically.  Also, weeding  is time consuming and we needed a victory yesterday.

Earlier this spring my husband and I saw a YouTube video of a weeder, found on a FaceBook Page devoted to lavender farmers.  He called the lavender farmer in Washington State who had one of these machines and then called the company who made the machine.  The company, located in Quebec, Canada, answered speaking French...oops!  Thank heaven the fellow on the other end could speak and understand American English.  He told my husband of a distributor in the USA--Oregon, to be exact, and the third call my husband made was to the Oregon company.  They had one left; we said "sold" and the next day were on our way to Woodburn, saw it, asked questions (one important question for us was whether it could be used with drip irrigation), and, in about a week, it was home.  

daughter driving/husband's "dry run" on weeder

it's working?  it's working--whew!  It is working!

Easy to attach/easy to use

Good visibility  for seeing drip irrigation

.....SO FAR, SO GOOD....  One more weapon in our arsenal to defeat this enemy!

We No Longer Have Crafting Lavender for Sale

We currently have six varieties of English Lavender (Lavendula angustifolia) ready for harvest: 'True Hidcote', 'Melissa', 'Sachet', 'French Fields', 'Croxton's Wild' and 'Peter Pan'. English lavender has a sweet fragrance and  these six varieties were planted especially for crafters. Each variety (cultivar) has a unique aroma and we invite you to come and walk the field and experience the different sweet fragrances for yourself. Note that these six varieties were planted in 2013, came through -32 degrees weather this last winter along with the 90 degree weather we're having now and they still have two more years of growth before being considered mature plants.  Still Waters Lavender is located at 3990 NE 33rd Street; Redmond, Oregon 97756. We are open Wednesday-Saturday, 10a-6p. Price for one (1) bunch: U-pick is $5; I-pick is $8. (A bunch is considered 125 stems). Please bring your own cutting utensil.   

'True Hidcote', med. purple

'True Hidcote', popular in lavender lemonade

'Melissa', pink flowers (buds are white)

Melissa is also used in culinary; adds a "peppery" flavor.

'Sachet', lt. purple

'Sachet', prized for its sweet fragrance used in filling of pillows

'French Fields', med. purple

'French Fields', so named because of its resemblance to the lavender fields in France

'Croxton's Wild', buds are white; flowers are purple

'Croxton's Wild', beautiful plant; please do not feel obligated to do anything with them.

'Peter Pan', med. purple

'Peter Pan', compact; good for patio

Thank you for visiting our website.  We hope to see you soon.