Dandelions and kids go hand in hand. Yellow stains and all.
Most of us can remember being children, running barefoot through the summer grass and discovering those bright yellow “flowers” sprinkled across the lawn. I proudly picked them, bundled them into tiny bouquets and presented them to my mother. She smiled, thanked me and admired my gift. Then, at the first opportunity, she quietly tossed them in the trash when I wasn’t looking.
Sound familiar? The decades may change, but that scene has played out for generations. What has changed, though, is how we deal with dandelions today.
As a child, I thought knocking the tops off those weeds with the mower blade was a perfectly acceptable lawn-care strategy. Mom strongly disagreed. She never used store-bought fertilizer or weed killer. The rain and sunshine were the fertilizer, and I was the weed killer. Armed with a garden trowel, I was sent into the yard to hand-dig every dandelion in sight. And this was not a casual assignment. Mom inspected my work to make sure I got the entire root. If even a sliver remained, I was headed back for another excavation.
Oddly enough, I enjoyed the job. It certainly beat washing dishes or staining the deck. The dandelion-removal campaign did create one problem, though. Those yellow “flowers” served as convenient markers when I mowed. Once they were gone, I had no idea where I had already been. During dry summers, our lawn was more brown than green anyway. I often mowed dead grass, dirt and the occasional surviving weed.
Still, I mowed because that is what Mom expected. Every now and then, I tried arguing that mowing dead grass seemed unnecessary. Those discussions never ended well. In fact, they often resulted in bonus chores, such as edging with those awful hand-trimming shears.
Eventually, I learned three important life lessons: Dig dandelions by the roots, mow whatever is growing and keep your mouth shut.
And then there were the stains. Do you remember how dandelion juice turned your fingers yellow? No matter how hard you scrubbed, the color seemed permanent. But yellow fingers were fine. They were badges of childhood, right alongside grass-stained jeans, scraped knees and black bicycle-chain grease smeared across your socks. Getting dirty was part of growing up. It meant you had been outside, exploring, working, playing and making memories.
These days, we spend too much time trying to eliminate every weed, stain and inconvenience from our lives. Maybe we should save a few dandelions. After all, some of life’s best memories started with dirty fingers, grass-stained jeans and a bouquet that never quite made it to a vase.
Have a fantastic Friday, and thanks for reading.
Shane Goodman
Editor and Publisher
Times Vedette digital newsletter
shane@gctimesnews.com
641-332-2707