Friday, October 9, 2009

Sawmill Ballroom, open your gates

Not too far from our little homestead is a fantastic place called the Sawmill Ballroom. They sell only lavender.

All the lavender you see in these photos is my very own beloved lavender hedge. The plants are probably 40 years old and super fragrant.

It's all I can do to harvest my thirty feet or so it before the rain starts in earnest.
The girls and I made some lavender bags at the sewing machine late Sunday night. We stripped the dried flowers off the cut stalks and poured them into flannel pouches before stitching them up and heating them for bedtime. My favorite to make and use are the "headache" shape -- like nighttime sleep masks only with weight. Here's a place a picture would serve. Anyhow they make me feel like the farm girl version of a glamorous (can flannel be glam?) movie star who's resting from her last scene enveloped in the soothing scent of lavender.
At the Sawmill Ballroom they have dozens of varieties of this gorgeous plant. They know the names but I just know you've never seen so many different forms. White and dark purple and French and Italian and braggart ruffly and barely visible and so on. The lavender scent invites you in to their quaint farm as you drive by. It's some sort of pre-engineered sales tactic. I'm sure of it.
Even though I have an existing heirloom lavender hedge (lucky, lucky me) I did dabble a little in planting more lavender -- just six or so new plants in my herb bed and flower beds -- once I discovered my wonderful neighbors.
But then I heard a nasty rumor that they were going wholesale, or, gasp, out of the business.
Say it isn't so. Or at least say you'll still let your hometown farm girl shop retail with you.

1 comment:

Mrs. Darling said...

You're really speaking my langauge here. I have longed to grow lavender. And Ive always said that when I get the time I am going to have business growing lavender and making essential oils and satchets and such. I doubt it will ever happen but I cna dream!