Dandelions - a pretty flower in disguise of a weed

One of my Facebook friends, David Hobson, who writes about gardening and its occasional accompanying angst, reminded me in his comments about suburban-ites and their continous battle with the yellow weed. A while back when in a gardening mode, the advent of Spring and summer was a continuous challenge to sustain a yellow-free lawn and control dandelions, as shared in an ICanGarden.com column. Most likely people reading this will relate. Right?

In Spring, a young man's (or woman's for that matter) fancy likely turns to thoughts of - gardening! All through the winter months our gardening endeavours are confined to those beautifully, illustrated photos in landscaping magazines, or the order forms in seed catalogues. At long last, the season of re-birth has arrived, and we feel impelled to get moving. It's time to sharpen the mower and hand shear blades, feed the laws, rake the grass, and get started on all the other tasks which go along with achieving a beautiful, picturesque garden. 
   
Upon reflection, you have to ask yourself the real reason behind all the work put into achieving a weed-free, green lawn and colorful display of flowers. Search down deep inside and the answer is obvious: we want our garden to be better than our neighbors. What reason other than ego, would impel us to spend a fortune of money on a variety of products like grass seed, flower and grass fertilizer, manure, weed killer, insect control stuff, for such a short period of time? In the winter, did you care that your next door neighbors had more snow on their property, than on yours? Or that their shovel was bigger or newer? Of course not, because there is nothing to be gained in a display of snow, right?     The ideal lawn for most of us is one that is a rich shade of green, weed-free, and without any crab grass. Heaven forbid there should be any sign of this dastardly, wild specie which has a way of cropping up when you least expect it. Worse yet, are the dandelions which make our lawns their number one place to call home. They have a habit of moving into a neighborhood, settling in with ease, and are not concerned with their social position among the cultivated blooms.     In my opinion, these delightful, happy flowers have acquired a bad reputation over the years which is undeserved. What's wrong with them anyway, I ask you? It's just a case of snobbery, due to the common manner in which they grew. Gardeners won't tolerate them because they aren't genteel and refined like the snobby roses, or the fussy impatiens and their ilk, who are considered to be among the pedigreed variety. Dandelions prefer to sprout wild and free, wherever their seed may fall. A point in their favor is that they are accessible to everyone, regardless of social strata or financial situation.     Maybe we should learn to co-exist with them since they are not ugly flowers aesthetically, and are easy to cultivate. They do not discriminate between good lawns and bad lawns, and will flourish everywhere with a vengeance. How do we repay them for their undying devotion, showing up in our lawns year after year?     As soon as the first splash of yellow peaks through the grass blades, we whip out our sprayer, fill it with dandelion slayer stuff until they are wilted into submission, but never forever. They may succumb to the various extermination methods temporarily, but dandelion roots run deep. Once they decide to dig in, it's almost impossible to get rid of them, permanently. So, why try. Think of all the money and energy which could be saved having to travel back and forth to the garden centre, to purchase flowers. Dandelions will just be...there. This crop doesn't require watering, they love all types of weather, and are low maintenance plants. Once neighbors adapt to their presence, you'll be the talk of the neighborhood.  "My blank-blank, what a beautiful crop of dandelions you have this year. So healthy and yellow," people will comment enviously.  "Yup, best crop ever," you'll respond proudly. "Lost your weed killer dispenser, eh?", they'll say, in an attempt to pump you for the inside scoop on the success of your new crop.     Let's learn to co-exist with all the weeds which grow in harmony side-by-side the dandelions, since they proliferate in such large numbers, anyway. Why waste all our energy on their elimination when we could be doing other things during the summer like...hmm...repairing the snow blower, perhaps?  

Spring - the garden beds are gone but the memory lingers on

Today I bought a geranium plant. In the scheme of things and being that this is Spring, it's not an unusual thing to do. Condo living is great but it's missing one vital component. I'm missing my garden.

While shopping at the supermarket, the front of the store was devoted to wooden display racks filled to capacity with annuals and hanging plants. Since it was an unusually warm sunny day, people were feeling the need to get down and dirty and feel the earth beneath their fingers. I know exactly how they feel.  Somehow, placing the plant on my still empty balcony gave me a feeling of kinship with gardeners and brought back memories of my garden.

Let me state for the record that my garden was not a display out of House and Gardens. Far from it. In fact there were more deaths than there were survivors. The wine-colored iris's growing in a bed on the side of the house could always be counted in the survivor column. They were my pride and joy because they required little care. Neighbors and people passing by frequently asked the secret in acquiring the magnificent display. Nothing - absolutely nothing other than separating the roots periodically. Mother Nature did the rest.

It's those rose bushes that tug at my heart. At this time of the year, I would be pondering whether the two remaining hybrid teas made it through the winter and/or whether they should be pulled. They were frequently in the in-between stage making a decision on their viability difficult. I've always been of the belief that roses in particular make slaves of their human caretakers having to primp, preen and fuss over them and in the end, they thank us by croaking. It was always touch and go and in a good year they would give me three roses each. In a bad year, they were afflicted black mold on their leaves but I loved them dearly. They are frequently in my thoughts.

I miss digging my fingers in the earth and feeling the soil sift through my fingers while preparing a home for new flowers and annuals. Our front lawn was composed primarily of dandelion leaves, which gave it a green shade and in dandelion season, the lawn was a mass of yellow flowers. It was an un-winable war trying to erradicate them and in the end, we conceded victory. In retrospect, perhaps we should have tried making dandelion wine or dandelion salad, since dandelion leaves sell at the supermarket. Had they asked us, we would have gladly donated ours for free.

It's been five years since we sold our house but the pull of the garden still seduces my senses. It's obvious to onlookers that we were gardeners since we embelish our balcony with hanging plants in addition to filling planters that we had brought with us, with annuals. There is no way I could part with my "pussycat" planter with the smiling black cat peeking out from behind trailing flowers. Neither could I leave the hand-made wooden planter behind given to me by my next door neighbor. In the end, you takes your planting as you get it. Meanwhile, there's always the geranium.

"In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends."

- Kozuko Okakura