To answer the question, below is her obit from The Guardian. Valerie Finnis This article appeared in the Guardian on Monday October 30 2006 on p34 of the Obituaries section. It was last updated at 00:03 on October 30 2006. Valerie Finnis, who has died aged 81, was one of the great ladies of gardening, renowned as a plantswoman and flower photographer, and as a unique character in her world. She knew everyone in it and revelled in its gossip, dramas, and talk littered with titles - she had one herself, by marriage but always used her maiden name. Plants were her first passion. An early memory was of a garden with drifts of gentians she saw when she was three. In 1975 the Royal Horticultural Society awarded her its greatest distinction, the Victoria Medal of Honour, for her many-faceted contribution to horticulture. "For me it used to be plants before people," she told me when we met. But after her marriage to Sir David Scott when she was 46, she said, she came to see that "it's really only people that matter". Her life was crammed with contacts, which she used tirelessly to make a difference to many other lives. A magazine interview brought us together in 1993, in mutual dread. She had always been warned by her late husband to avoid publicity; I had been warned of how difficult she could be. Both our fears vanished the moment we saw each other. Many people felt this instant rapport with her, that could begin a lifelong friendship. Her father, Steriker Finnis, was a naval officer, her mother was Constance Finnis, who raised the strain of Iceland poppies that bears her name. She noticed her small daughter's fascination with plants, and gave her a prominent plot in front of the house when she was only four. After her birth in Crowborough, Sussex, Valerie's family moved twice. At 13 she was sent to boarding school at Hayes Court, Kent, where the headmistress Katharine Cox, herself a great plantswoman, saw and rewarded her gift for gardening (and the drama teacher, a young actor called Alec Guinness, noted her acting talent). But with the outbreak of war in 1939 Hayes Court was closed and, after missing two terms, Valerie found herself at Downe House, near Newbury, where she took up small-bore rifle shooting and was soon in the first team. In 1942, at 18, Valerie entered Waterperry Horticultural School for Women near Oxford, run by the redoubtable Beatrix Havergal who had worked as gardener at Downe House from 1922 to 1927, and then joined forces with the school housekeeper to found the horticultural school. Miss Havergal's girls called each other by their surnames - Valerie's way of referring to beloved favourites and detested enemies alike. She had me calling her Finnis; for her I was Watts. Waterperry nurtured and stimulated Finnis's talents - not least, for driving the lorry that took its fruit and vegetables to Oxford's colleges and its covered market, and to London's Covent Garden throughout the second world war. In her 28 years at Waterperry she became a charismatic teacher and a specialist in alpines, winning acclaim for her skills in collecting, growing and propagating these tiny, delicate and difficult plants. Waterperry's regime was spartan. To boost her income to support her invalid father, Finnis developed more accomplishments: as a lecturer and broadcaster, a member of several Royal Horticultural Society committees, and one of the first women photographers of plants. With an old Rolleiflex, the gift of Wilhelm Schacht, curator of Munich's botanic garden, she built up a library of 50,000 transparencies of plant portraits, and some of such gardeners as Margery Fish, David Shackleton and Vita Sackville-West. When Howard Sooley went to photograph Finnis some years ago, she took as many pictures of him as he of her, and a friendship began. When Sooley saw this remarkable archive, sadly encased in cardboard boxes, he determined it should be published. A new book of it is due from Thames & Hudson next Easter. Finnis never lost her excitement in response to life, a quality that propelled her towards the man she would marry. Immured in her potting shed at Waterperry one day in 1968, she heard a voice outside remark: "Goodness, she's got Gillenia trifoliata!" Thrilled, Finnis rushed out. "You're the first person who's ever known that plant!" she exclaimed to the speaker. Both their lives changed in that moment. David Scott was a retired diplomat who with his late wife, Dorothy, had spent 40 years growing trees and rare shrubs in two acres of parkland beside the dower house of Boughton House, the Northamptonshire seat of the Dukes of Buccleuch. He was a grandson of the fifth Duke and had grown up there. To this beautiful place came Finnis and her alpines. "We just gardened," she said, when asked about their marriage. Its 16 years of great happiness ended when David died in 1986, aged 99. It was Finnis's love for plants that helped her recover from her grief. David's only child, Merlin, a gifted naturalist, was killed in the second world war at 22. A friend suggested Valerie do something for young people in his memory. From this seed grew the Merlin Trust, a fund she set up in 1990 to help young men and women with grants for horticultural travel and research projects. Since then, the Trust has helped almost 500 young gardeners. Failing health latterly obliged her to relinquish her very personal control of the Trust. But the friendships it created went on. Tom Hart Dyke became a high-profile "Merlin" when he was kidnapped and held captive in Colombia in 2000 after extending his quest for new orchid species there. On his return, Valerie was one of the first people to ring, he recalls, and ascribes the "world garden" he is now creating at Lullingstone Castle to her inspiration. He also remembers the fun of pushing her around the Chelsea Flower Show in her wheelchair: an event she amazed everyone by attending this year, as every other, for the past half century. Valerie Finnis, gardener and photographer, born October 31 1924; died October 17 2006

these are all so good! Michelle Kwan - I think it would be a graceful silvery-lavender hybrid tea with long stems and a sweet scent Margaritaville - a lime-green tinged white floribunda that has big blowsy blossoms and a citrus tea fragrance (for Jimmy Buffett) Mother Teresa - would be a warm white with golden yellow reverse that would seem to glow from a distance, with a classic rose scent. Nolan Ryan - a bright cardinal red climber that throws long canes, blooms up a storm, is extremely tough and loves sunshine (fragrance not important) Katie Couric - would be a petite hybrid tea with yellow and hot pink striped flowers, covered with abundant blooms all season, and a sweet fruity fragrance Jeri in Texas

What fascinating stories, natesgram! What a wonderful thing to reconnect with your pen-pal from Micronesia after so many years. That's quite a gift! And what a sweet, sweet story about your father-in-law and how he met the love of his life. :-) My mother really inspired my interest in pen-pals. She had a pen-pal when she was a young girl in the 40s - a girl her own age who lived in Scotland. Mom saved several things that the girl had sent her, and over the years as I was growing up, I used to love to dig out those items and dream about a little girl from long ago and far away. I had my first pen-pal when I was a pre-teen. Her name was Barbara and she was an Italian beauty who lived in New Jersey. She was extremely boy crazy, and quite precocious for an 11 or 12-year old, and I remember being somewhat "scandalized" by her letters in which she told me of kissing (and petting with) boys. Shocking! ;-) When I was an older teenager I briefly had a young man as a pen-pal. His name was Christopher and he lived in England, and was very handsome. I definitely had a crush, but I also had a boyfriend who was jealous of my long-distance letter writing, so I stopped communicating with Christopher. I've wondered a few times over the years whatever happened to him. Thanks to magazines such as Country Decorating Ideas and Country Almanac, I've had quite a few pen-pals, several that I grew very close to throughout the years, even meeting in person and developing a relationship with their families as well. I reconnected with several of them on Facebook (but I no longer have an account there, so have kinda lost track of them again). Back in the early 90s, I probably had 5 or 6 very active pen-pal relationships with women who, like me, had a passion for decorating, collecting, and homemaking. We regularly sent each other "swap boxes" of goodies that we either handcrafted or picked up for one another in various antique shops or even at yard sales, and that was so much fun. Looking back to that time in my life, I wasn't working - I was a full-time homemaker - and the letter writing definitely filled a void and made my days at home more interesting. I still can't quite believe all of those pages and pages that I hand wrote! I just wrote a brief thank-you note to a work contact, and my handwriting has become just atrocious throughout the years. I know it wasn't this bad when I was regularly writing to my pen-pals! Fun topic! It made me stop and remember some really neat people from my past.

Saw a bunch of the purse hangers at SteinMart last Sunday. They were mixed in with something similar to my Finders KeyPurse, a handy item to make it easy to find your keys in your purse. Jodi-