Mamacita says: I love dandelions. I will never understand why people will pay out the wazoo for lovely nursery-bred flowers to plant, and then pay out the wazoo for someone to kill the lovely golden blossoms that are already growing.
Dandelions: How are these not beautiful?
Is it because dandelions are so common, and grow so easily, that we take them for granted and prefer flowers that really aren’t all that much prettier but which are harder to grow, expensive, and are a bit less common? If dandelions weren’t sprinkled everywhere, turning plain green lawns into starry universes, common, easy, beloved by children, would they be more popular?
Whenever there are too many of pretty much anything, we tend to take them for granted and consider them less than first class. Take a look at our overcrowded classrooms, for example. But I digress.
If we examine each individual child flower, we will see that it is wondrously made, unique, adds to the quality of the universe, and is worthy of attention.
No florist’s creation will ever rival the Dixie cup with a few short-stemmed dandelions plunked down in it.
Nothing store-bought or paid-for will ever rival the dandelion even in its death, turned into a white fuzzy clock that will tell a child the time, according to the number of breaths it takes to blow all the fuzz away. And, of course, FAIRIES love to ride on the soft, fluffy achenes, granting wishes right and left. Every child knows that if you can blow ALL the achenes off with one breath, your wish will definitely come true.
How sad, to be a child without dandelions on the lawn, to have nothing but plain green landscaping that he can’t even play on because of all the chemicals, to have expensive blooms and blossoms that he can’t pick. How sad the house containing children but no Dixie cups of short-stemmed dandelions all over the countertops. My heart actually breaks over the thought of children living in a house where blowing dandelion clocks is forbidden, lest the seeds take root and ruin the “look.” No wishes or fairies dare come near such a domicile. There’s a big difference between a house and a home, and to people like me, who believe firmly in fairies, wishes, and stubby little bouquets in paper cups, a house has a green, chemically-treated velvety lawn, and a home has grass, sprinkled with tiny golden stars. And, if the children are especially lucky, lots of little purple violets, as well.
Dandelion clocks and wishes and fairies, oh my
I believe that dandelions are flowers, in the same way that those expensive hybrid roses are flowers, and every bit as beautiful, especially when they’re thrust in our face by a grubby little child, put in a Dixie cup, and placed where everybody can see and admire them.
Dandelions represent summer, and childhood, and the love of a little girl or boy for a parent, and a Dixie cup of stubby dandelions means more to me than anything delivered by the florist’s truck.
Put that Dixie cup on the coffee table between two cereal bowls containing floating periwinkle blossoms and catalpa blooms, and House Beautiful can go blow. I prefer the individual touch when it comes to home decor.
I also welcome the fairies. Heaven knows I can use all the wishes I can get.
What’s that? You’re afraid of the bees? Sissy.