Damnedelions

5258720472_7d15c20b1b_o

(Time-lapse video below

It’s spring! Sort of. Actually, we’re still in Sprinter where I live, so it’s snow shovels one day and flip-flops and shades the next. But the dandelions can’t be fooled. Fake-daisy-delions are popping up all over our yard, even amid the patches of snow.

Why should it matter? They’re kind of cute, and many people–who don’t have lawns to mow–love them. But thanks to those croquet-mad Victorians and a voracious lawn care industry, millions of lawn-owners slavishly strive to maintain yards full of thick virginal grass–and nothing else!

Good luck with that. I’m no purist. I like my Scott’s-free yard full of cheerful violets and pithy inedible strawberries. But those tiny white-flowered onions and the king of all interlopers–the dandelions–I can live without. So I crawl around on my hands and knees every spring, pulling up flowers before they can seed a thousand more of their brethren. Hence the title of this post:

Damnedelions!

Why? I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with dandelions: Love the flowers, but hate the forest of bare poles that remains after the pods fly away, and the ugly, jaggy, ground-hugging leaves. Which, it turns out, are the source of the plant’s name; dandelion means “lion’s teeth” in French. In fact, we North Americans have the French to thank for introducing dandelions, along with bikinis and snails (one hit and one miss). Early settlers here made salads out of dandelions and brewed “coffee” from their seeds.

I always thought there were two types of dandelions: the happy little pseudo-daisies and the magical puff-balls every child knows are used as public transportation by faeries. But I was wrong. It turns out they’re the same plant. After those cute little yellow flowers wilt and turn ugly, the seeds gather into a sphere called a “clock.”Ā  There’s a cool time-exposure video of the process below.

Anyway, love ’em or hate ’em, they’re tenacious invaders. Kinda like humans.

About mitchteemley

Writer, Filmmaker, Humorist, Thinker-about-stuffer
This entry was posted in Culture, Humor, Memoir and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

32 Responses to Damnedelions

  1. I love the term ‘sprinter’ Mitch šŸ˜Ž

    Liked by 4 people

  2. pvcann says:

    Damnedelions, that made me smile, loved the post

    Liked by 2 people

  3. danicanallen says:

    Though we blog from different perspectives, I really enjoy your writing, which is why I haunt you, haha. The time-lapse video was quite moving. To me, dandelions are an icon of childhood.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I love ’em. Grandma made a hot dandelion salad with a bacon dressing. A nearby church hosted a springtime ham and dandelion supper which drew folks from hundreds of miles away. And of course there was Grandpa’s dandelion wine. Hmmmm

    Liked by 1 person

  5. CJ Hartwell says:

    I like the video, even with the melodramatic music. šŸ˜‰
    What gets me is that apparently it takes two weeks to go from flower to seed head. Yet again, proof I’m one lazy gardener!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I’m overrun with dandelions so take my advice with a grain of salt, but an easy way to get rid of them is to take a tea kettle of hot water out in the morning and water them. They don’t like boiling water and the neighbors tend to think you’re batty having a mad tea party in your yard, so they tend to stay away too. It’s kind of win-win. šŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  7. revruss1220 says:

    I’m with you; not a fan of these insidious plants. However… seeing them appear in my yard brings with it the sweet anticipation of warm weather. So there’s that. Loved the video!

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Great video. I grew up with lots of them in Virginia. My father didn’t care about them …just mowed them along with everything else.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. I’m fighting the same losing battle with dandelions. Sigh.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. M.B. Henry says:

    1) Sprinter – excellent. Lol. 2) I’m terribly sorry, but that time lapse video made me like dandelions EVEN MORE. 3) While I don’t have a lawn to mow here in LA, I sure did in Iowa! A HUGE one haha. But I still ā¤ Dandelions. Because they were one of the first pretty things to come up after a hard winter (or sprinter)

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Damndelions and sprinter. Two great new words.

    Liked by 2 people

  12. I remember part of a poem I read as a kid. The only lines I remember are…

    “Gold shall turn to silver soon.
    And all shall blow away.”

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Fun post! I watched the video but got kind of distracted by all the aphids. šŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  14. smzang says:

    I love that title!
    “Love the flowers, but hate the forest of bare poles that remains after the pods fly away, and the ugly, jaggy, ground-hugging leaves.” and so much agree with that sentiment.

    “tenacious invaders” The best of the best, and it’s all so delightfully good.

    Right now a ‘damnedelion’ or better still, a buttercup, would be a gift from the heavens.
    Snow is falling fast and furiously, the wind is howling, and it feels like February. This,
    too, shall pass and in a week or so I’ll be blissfully irked by those ‘damnedelions’

    Here’s to ‘Sprinter’. Can Spring be far behind?

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Ann Coleman says:

    I love the term “Sprinter!” I hope you don’t mind, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to be stealing it…..

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s