But I knew we had found our place when we saw the giant wooden barn and my husband walked toward it as if in a trance, and then continued back behind it. I knew we had found our place when I saw him walking around the land and looking up at the sky as if to say, “OK I’m here” -- completely ignoring all of us gathered to discuss this latest possibility. After a while, Mark walked over and said “I love it” -- and I knew he did and that this would be our place. The barn was beautiful, the land was sloped (though a few trees would need to be cut down to open it up a little), there was a (bonus) 1 acre vineyard that grows pinot noir, it had its own forest -- it was on 30 acres of Oregon heaven. It has a detached garage for space to create an artist’s studio or little apartment. It has a small shed next to the garage that could be converted into the Little Lavender Shop. I could see where I would put the chickens and the greenhouse and the herb garden and perhaps a few goats. I could see where visitors would park when they came to pick lavender. The house was a log home. I never would have chosen a log home, but it’s beautiful and we could make it our own. There was so much promise here.
The present owner is an engineer (as is Mark) and as we talked with his daughter about the history of the farm and the stories that go along with it, we both felt an incredible sense of responsibility. We wanted to be the new caretakers of this land and love it as much as her dad has. Later that day, my sweet husband wrote the owner and his daughter a letter promising to do as much.
We have put in our offer and it has been accepted. And now we wait. And we dream. Little Lavender Farm part 2 has begun.