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We weren’t trying to follow our noses, but in the summer of 2011, we visited San Juan Island for a few days. We were living in Houston at the time, and we visited the Pacific Northwest so my husband could participate in the RAMROD (Ride Around Mount Rainier in One Day).
I don’t ride. I’m happy to be a cheerleader.
Anyway, after the ride we visited San Juan Island for some R&R. While there, we toured the Pelindaba Lavender Farm, and I scarfed up plenty of souvenirs: lavender teas, lavender room freshener, culinary lavender, and, of course, lavender chocolate. Lavender is a calming herb, and I need all the help I can get.
We had left a record hot and drought-filled summer in Houston that destroyed not only my vegetable garden, but some of my native plants as well. Apparently even heat-loving plants have their limits.
On the island, we sat in restaurants with doors open and fresh air pouring in. I wasn’t drenched with sweat the moment I walked outdoors, and our tour of the lavender farm was relaxed. We could take our time without dying of sunstroke.
Shortly after our return, we had had enough. Henry’s parents had both died. The kids had their own lives, one in New York and the other in Dallas (later, Miami). We both work from home. What were we doing here?
While we felt Port Townsend was a better overall fit than San Juan Island, we knew we belonged in the Pacific Northwest.
These days, I have a yard filled with lavender, a great treat for the bees as well as me. 45 minutes down the road, the town of Sequim offers an annual lavender festival, and I even have a fabric art piece that honors Sequim’s purple summer beauty.
A scent, a whiff, and presto! A cross-country move. Thanks, lavender.