potpourri

Before I was even 20 years old, I wanted to convert a little run-down church into a shop and name it potpourri -- at the time potpourri was a new word to me (I loved it so much, I used it in sentences whenever I could). My sister was in on it, too, and we thought we'd sell exactly what the word meant -- a mixture of things. It was a little vague. The plan never got past the yearning stage -- I put more energy into dreaming about potpourri, the name, than ever really owning a shop.

                                                                                  lavender, larkspur, rose, lemon verbena, rose geranium

This memory came up because I've been gathering together bags and jars of last year's herbal harvest. The dried flower petals and fragrant leaves could easily be mixed together with fixative and essential oil to make a nice herbal potpourri. I'm thinking of what fragrance it could be and what else to add, should it go in a big wooden bowl or should I sew up some of those tea bags and make sachets for the car. Or forgo the essential oils and make an edible potpourri -- that leaves out the larkspur because it's poisonous.

                                                                          rose & lemon verbena tea

Think I'll hold off. I mean once an essential oil is added, the party's over. It can't be made into tea then. It can't be used in any recipes. The fragrance can't be switched out if I change my mind. It maybe won't look as pretty as it does right now, soft piles of color.

Guess I need to dream on this potpourri a little bit longer.