I love the smell of lavender. I love the colour lavender. If I had to name the next domestic animal, I'd call it Lavender even if it was of the male gender. I would. Really. I remember the day I fell in love with lavender. Clearly. It was noon hour on a week day. I was at work. The director was on vacation, and while she was away, we arranged for one of our favourite public health nurses (y'all have a favourite, right?) to come in and facilitate a relaxation (therapy) session. She had about a dozen of us lie on the floor side by side, and we practiced breathing for about half an hour. It was AMAZING. And she gave us all a little cotton puff with a dab of lavender oil to place under our noses, and I carried that little lavender cotton puff in my pocket for days. The scent truly soothes me. I've since bought lavender soap, lavender oil, lavender shampoo, lavender plants for my garden . . . I'm obsessed. Ironically my first memory of lavender was dismissing it as old lady-ish. Eek. I guess I can chalk this up alongside my love of pineapple sundaes and bran muffins and decaf coffee and knitting. I should really be a senior.