Maybe five-year-olds really do have life figured out.
The other day, my beloved kindergartener waltzed through our patio door into the kitchen, rapturously declaring, “Mommy, our yard is bea-yoo-ti-ful. Come see.”
And taking me by the hand she dragged me to our backyard.
As I went, I wondered, “Beautiful? How can this be?”
I still haven’t finished the spring raking, our hillside “garden” is rampant with dead waist-high grasses, a mismanaged thicket of blackberry bushes, an apple tree that rivals the angle of the Leaning Tower of Pisa and the yard is littered with sorry-looking plastic toys that were covered over with snow, having been forgotten before they could be stored for the winter.
“Look,” she said, spreading her arms, expansively. “At all the flowers.”
Well, the flowers in question were not what most people would consider flowers.
She was referring to the surging growth of yellow dandelions that is rapidly carpeting the lawn.
Inwardly, I sighed, thinking of all the work ahead. Trying to keep your lawn weed free is like fighting the tide. You pull one root, only to see two more crop up.
In no way am I advocating for the use of pesticides to do the dirty work of creating a lush green chemical carpet. I was personally turned against the products when our cocker spaniel inexplicably had a seizure the day after our then-neighbours were seen spraying their yard with something.
One can not argue, that keeping up with the yard work is well, hard work, especially when, like many of us, there are jobs and kids and a bazillion indoor chores to occupy our time.
Then it happened. My daughter started shrieking like you’d think they’d announced a new holiday that combined Christmas, Halloween and her birthday into one.
“Look, mommy,” she screamed. “It’s the first one.”
What she meant was it was the first “puffy” dandelion of the year —you know, when the bright yellow turns to a perfectly round ball of seeds, each of which will replicate themselves over and over and over. Of course, she ran right over, and as children will do, she took in a lung-full of air and blew those seeds all over our backyard.
For a moment, I wanted to yell, “Stop!”
Then I realized, my problem with dandelions is really with my attitude.
I need to emulate my five-year-old and embrace the weed that has become the nemesis of so many. Really, why can’t we embrace those bright yellow heads as flowers instead of weeds? They do have a cheery charm, and indeed, in many places especially in Europe, are even harvested as crops for salad greens or winemaking. And as a parent, how can you reject the bouquet of yellow that your child so lovingly picked for you?
And so, I’ve decided my lawn is not filled with weeds, it’s just an extended flower bed.
- Tracy Hughes is editor of the Salmon Arm Observer