Dandelion Ballet

Spring pounced on us early this year bringing with it a handbag full of spastic weather, abundant wildlife and the worst of all, dandelions.

I’m not one for fertilizing, or weed spraying. I believe anything that can be mowed should be considered lawn. An all natural mindset. Well, ok, you got me, I’m just lazy. Be that as it may, I love mowing the lawn. I’m no Hank Hill, but I like the way a lawn looks freshly mowed. In fact I prefer the lawn to be longer before cutting so that the difference is more pronounced.

Nothing smells better than a freshly mown lawn. Also, there is a plant growing in my yard that smells like fresh laundry when I mow it down. So, like Bits and Bites, every part of my lawn is a whole new ballgame of olfactory delights.

Except those damn Dandelions.

I swear, as soon as I start the mower, they lie down. I mow over them, look back and there they are, popped up and mocking me. If they had hips and lips, they’d be swaying in a taunting circle while repeating the mantra, “neener, neener, neener, you missed me”. Don’t let their sunshiny demeanour fool you, they are living, thinking, evil beings.

I wheel the tractor around and park it over the offending lion. HA! Take that. Only to pull away and find the lion rising to it’d full height, unscathed. Sure I manage to mow some of them into itty, bitty green mulch, but they are the plant version of a Hydra. For every one I mow, two more pop up.

As a result, my immaculate, mowed lawn, makes my house look abandoned due to the forest of Dandelion stems.

I will not be reduced to stooping and pulling them out one by one. Why? Well, let me paint you a picture. On my lawn tractor, it takes me the better part of three hours to mow the uncontoured part of my lawn. Then I have to switch to the push mower to finish the rest, another two to three hours. That’s a lot of lawn, of which the Dandelion squatters now occupy at least 40%.

I’m sure there is someone out there deranged enough and with legs and a back in much better condition than mine, that would tackle that chore, but I’m not one of them.

For now, I’ll sit in my lawn chair on the front lawn, wearing my dirty, stained sleeveless shirt, Bermuda shorts and flip-flop, surrounded by a bevy of empty beer cans watching the Dandelion Ballet.

If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, I say.

One, Two, three, deboule, dessous, eleve. And again.

Advertisements

About Dale Long

Writing ambushed me from the shadows. At first I pushed it aside as nonsense, but luckily my wife and two girls saw the potential. Since then I have had an article published by Metroland, placed as runner-up and in the top ten in humour writing contests and various other contests. The icing on the cake was placing as runner-up in the WCDR's Wicked Words contest (130 entries) and having my entry published in the contests anthology of the same name. My entry was an exerpt from my upcoming novel, Echoes.
This entry was posted in The Word According to Dad. and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Dandelion Ballet

  1. Lisa Llamrei says:

    I know of an herbalist who says the best way to get revenge against weeds is to eat them. Unfortunately, that requires at least as much work as pulling them all out, so I with you, watching them wave in the wind.

  2. deepamwadds says:

    I love the pictures you paint! And i agree with allowing dandelions to be what they are – flowers in the grass. But when it’s time to mow, they have to succumb just like everyone else, right? Sigh, mine do that possum thingy too. I didn’t know it was a conspiracy.

  3. Anonymous says:

    Very funny

  4. Good gravy. I guess your yard is why they invented the “southwestern landscaping” we used to have in New Mexico. That’s code for lava rock and/or river rock / gravel and cactus with maybe some bark dust. But here in the Pacific NW, I’m glad I have teenaged sons and a small yard. However, more than a few dandelions will get us a nasty note from the Homeowners’ association. le sigh.

    • Dale Long says:

      Talk about your nosey neighbours hunh? And nosey neighbours with power, no less. That’s a great idea for a story!
      My nosey neighbours are noisy wildlife. Foxes, Wolves, coyotes and those furry rototillers, skunks and racoons.

  5. Diane Dooley says:

    Hee, hee. The dandelions don’t bother me none. My husband, however, wages war on them as badly as you do, Dale.

    • Dale Long says:

      Together we are united. Soon we all have an army! 😉
      There are days when I feel like Bill Murray in Caddy Shack, “To kill you must know your enemy, and in this case, my enemy is a varmint…errr dandelion. And a varmint…errr dandelion will not quit, ever.”

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s