Damnedelions

I just had to reblog this post by Mitch Teemley. I was going to write about the futile attempt of getting rid of Dandelions in the tiny bit of lawn I try to rescue in front of my garden. I already spent a full day on my knees cutting them up with a knife. Three weeks later, every plant is back in full force, bringing siblings to the spring party. Frustrating indeed. And then I stumble across this post in my reader this morning. I loved it, hope you do, too…

Mitch Teemley

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(Time-lapse video below)

It’s spring. Start your mowers.

Thanks to those croquet-mad Victorians and a voracious lawn care industry, millions slavishly strive to maintain yards full of thick virginal grass–and nothing else!

Good luck with that.

I’m no purist. I like my yard Scott’s-free, full of cheerful violets, pithy inedible strawberries, tiny white-flowered onions, and that king of the interlopers–dandelions. Damnedelions!

I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with dandelions: love the flowers, hate 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, it turns out we have the French to thank for introducing dandelions, along with bikinis and snails (a hit and a miss). Early European settlers made salads out of dandelions and brewed “coffee” from their seeds.

I always thought there were two types of dandelions: those happy little orangey-yellow pseudo-daisies my yard is…

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