Fresh Lavender Cookies

It was a cold winter evening. (As cold as southern California could get, I guess) Another late night to come at Megan's house: her brown leather sofa, cold to the touch, but warmed after the friction of thighs and the help of a fleece blanket. The conversation would go on for hours, and that's when I had my first cup of freshly brewed lavender milk tea: her mother's most prized possession. I was told that it was a rare tea that was only sold in Taiwan. I'm Taiwanese, which means, undoubtedly I have them lavender milk tea connections. I wish I did. I wish my grandfather was the CEO of some lavender milk tea company and I could sleepily sip and sip to my heart's content. It was here that my unnatural love for lavender spawned. Lavender ice cream. Lavender bath soap. Lavender lotion. Lavender oil. Lavender. . . plants?


When I was in Aix-en-Provence, I would have stabbed a child to be able to see the vast lavender fields in bloom --- sadly, it was the end of November and lavender season is June. Your children are safe, for now.


Back in LA, I'll take what I can get. I was at Whole Foods a few weeks ago. (Who are we kidding, I'm always at Whole Foods. . .) and I came across lavender plants on sale! I was so excited that I started smelling every plant. I don't know why. I mean, of course they'd smell... the same. But I placed one in my cart and 3 days later planted the sucker in the little dead plot outside our apartment. The little guy's holding up (God only knows how) with daily watering a little bit of sunlight. I hope it grows into a ravaging bush, a field, even! I could twirl in it! After I twirl in it, I can make more fresh lavender things. I want to fill this apartment with lavender! * twirls gaily *

But *ahem * enough of that. With fresh lavender growing in my plot, lavender cookies on a Spring morning seemed to be singing out my name.

I should name it.
Lavendy?