Weeding Out the Truth on Dandelions
Thanks to my unique ability to relate to hip, youthful readers, I imagine that every week, the hallways of schools throughout the nation — from high to junior to elementary — are buzzing about my latest column.
Today I've got something especially for all you hip, youthful readers in, say, kindergarten through third grade. Let's talk about springtime's friendliest little flower — the delightful dandelion! Kids everywhere just love this little blossom, whether they're mashing it into their friends' chins or picking fistfuls to give to mom or grandma or a favorite teacher.
Kids — wanna visit a place with more dandelions than you've ever seen? Ask mom or grandma or a favorite teacher to arrange transportation to my house! I'll loan you a few easy-to-use weapons of grass destruction, and you can build a humongous dandelion bouquet! Just be sure to extract the entire root, and pour some fun, highly toxic herbicide in the spider-hole that's left behind!
And there's only one little tiny itty-bitty rule: Don't blow even one of those cute fuzzy little dandelion seeds — the kind that float with effortless aerodynamic perfection until they enter the airspace over my yard, where they suddenly plummet into the soil like cute fuzzy little ICBMs. If you do, you'll get a whole month of detention. The month of July.
Okay, by this point, most hip, youthful kindergarten through third grade readers have probably dropped the mouse and begun preparing for their big dandelion-collecting adventure at my house. So I'll address the rest of this piece to you hip and, shall we say, less-youthful readers, the kind with exasperating real-life experience battling Taraxacum Officinale.
The immense quantities of Taraxacum in my yard have led me to conclude that the global confederation of dandelions has made my lawn its Officinale International Headquarters. I’ve tried lots of eradication techniques. This spring I experimented with a new method — extremely salty language. And I think I actually succeeded in slightly stunting one dandelion's growth by screaming "Das größte blatt misst in der länge!" This is a phrase I found on a German-language Website about dandelions. I don't know what it means, but it's a great way to make a cussing-type noise without actually cussing. I hope.
But now, my attitudes about dandelions are undergoing a radical shift, thanks to the stuff I learned about them while researching this column.
For starters, did you know that dandelions are not even native to North America? Like many flowering weeds that suffered persecution in their homelands, they floated across the ocean in huddled masses of aerodynamically perfect seeds, until entering the airspace above what would eventually become my yard. With no natural enemies, they quickly became one of modern America's most persistent and annoying imports, like starlings, or the music of Elton John.
Did you know dandelions are actually planted -- on purpose -- for many uses, including all kinds of homemade medicines. I hear a poultice of dandelions provides fast relief if you've got das größte blatt misst in your der länge.
Lots of people also think dandelions are great to eat. Dover, Ohio, holds an annual Dandelion Festival, complete with a National Dandelion Cook-off. This certainly reinforces the widespread belief that Ohioans are weirdos.
But seriously, dandelions are common cooking ingredients in more than 50 nations: In Korea, they're used in "kimchi," and in France, they're tossed into a "famous gourmet salad" named — really — "Pissenlit au Lard." I think that's all I better say about that.
Dandelions have also found their way into the diet of man's best friend. One Website claims that dandelions can help ensure your dog's regularity. And in true "circle of life" fashion, your dandelions will benefit from your dog's, um, regularizations.
After learning all this, I realize I've been wrong about dandelions all these years. I should be farming them instead of trying to farm them out.
So kids, keep making those plans to come to my house! I still need your help in my yard, for my First Annual Dandelion Harvest! But I strongly suggest you wear some boots or galoshes — I've been testing some dandelion recipes on my kids, and the yard is filled with their, um, regularizations.
Speaking of regularizations, how about e-mailing a data dump? TakefiveT5@yahoo.com.
Today I've got something especially for all you hip, youthful readers in, say, kindergarten through third grade. Let's talk about springtime's friendliest little flower — the delightful dandelion! Kids everywhere just love this little blossom, whether they're mashing it into their friends' chins or picking fistfuls to give to mom or grandma or a favorite teacher.
Kids — wanna visit a place with more dandelions than you've ever seen? Ask mom or grandma or a favorite teacher to arrange transportation to my house! I'll loan you a few easy-to-use weapons of grass destruction, and you can build a humongous dandelion bouquet! Just be sure to extract the entire root, and pour some fun, highly toxic herbicide in the spider-hole that's left behind!
And there's only one little tiny itty-bitty rule: Don't blow even one of those cute fuzzy little dandelion seeds — the kind that float with effortless aerodynamic perfection until they enter the airspace over my yard, where they suddenly plummet into the soil like cute fuzzy little ICBMs. If you do, you'll get a whole month of detention. The month of July.
Okay, by this point, most hip, youthful kindergarten through third grade readers have probably dropped the mouse and begun preparing for their big dandelion-collecting adventure at my house. So I'll address the rest of this piece to you hip and, shall we say, less-youthful readers, the kind with exasperating real-life experience battling Taraxacum Officinale.
The immense quantities of Taraxacum in my yard have led me to conclude that the global confederation of dandelions has made my lawn its Officinale International Headquarters. I’ve tried lots of eradication techniques. This spring I experimented with a new method — extremely salty language. And I think I actually succeeded in slightly stunting one dandelion's growth by screaming "Das größte blatt misst in der länge!" This is a phrase I found on a German-language Website about dandelions. I don't know what it means, but it's a great way to make a cussing-type noise without actually cussing. I hope.
But now, my attitudes about dandelions are undergoing a radical shift, thanks to the stuff I learned about them while researching this column.
For starters, did you know that dandelions are not even native to North America? Like many flowering weeds that suffered persecution in their homelands, they floated across the ocean in huddled masses of aerodynamically perfect seeds, until entering the airspace above what would eventually become my yard. With no natural enemies, they quickly became one of modern America's most persistent and annoying imports, like starlings, or the music of Elton John.
Did you know dandelions are actually planted -- on purpose -- for many uses, including all kinds of homemade medicines. I hear a poultice of dandelions provides fast relief if you've got das größte blatt misst in your der länge.
Lots of people also think dandelions are great to eat. Dover, Ohio, holds an annual Dandelion Festival, complete with a National Dandelion Cook-off. This certainly reinforces the widespread belief that Ohioans are weirdos.
But seriously, dandelions are common cooking ingredients in more than 50 nations: In Korea, they're used in "kimchi," and in France, they're tossed into a "famous gourmet salad" named — really — "Pissenlit au Lard." I think that's all I better say about that.
Dandelions have also found their way into the diet of man's best friend. One Website claims that dandelions can help ensure your dog's regularity. And in true "circle of life" fashion, your dandelions will benefit from your dog's, um, regularizations.
After learning all this, I realize I've been wrong about dandelions all these years. I should be farming them instead of trying to farm them out.
So kids, keep making those plans to come to my house! I still need your help in my yard, for my First Annual Dandelion Harvest! But I strongly suggest you wear some boots or galoshes — I've been testing some dandelion recipes on my kids, and the yard is filled with their, um, regularizations.
# # #
Speaking of regularizations, how about e-mailing a data dump? TakefiveT5@yahoo.com.
posted by Don Stuart at 9:23 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home