Fistfuls of Dandelions

This week, on the first hot day, when a bright dandelion was spotted, plucked, and offered to me without a stem, I was ready!

For years, I had tried floating the things in little dessert bowls, but they always looked about to drown. Propping them up against the rim of a jelly glass didn’t work too well, either.

Then Ilse gave me this. Just in time for grandma bouquets.

Heather Hansohn Pottery was located next door to her on Harrisonburg’s Wolfe Street, and one of the many beautiful clay products Heather makes is this stemless flower holder. (She has a website, in case you are interested!)

It’s perfect for little hands to tuck tiny flowerets into place to create one-of-a-kind bouquets. Its tiny water reservoir is just big enough to freshen the wild blossoms until they naturally fade. And then, the next day, a new arrangement can take its place.

I have vivid  memories of picking flowers as a child. I think I learned how precious flowers are by noticing my mother’s reaction when I wantonly picked her favorites. I’m thinking of the luscious drapes of bleeding heart that I picked and adorned a play letter with, pretending it was a beautiful postage stamp. My mother wasn’t rude about it, but somehow I got the message that she had treasured the way that flower looked in her garden.

I must have done the same with her gaillardia, since she loved quoting little Susie with a repentant voice, saying, “Mama, I won’t pick lour guh-lah-dee-ah anymore!”

It was my turn later, when bright red and yellow parrot tulips were blooming at the edge of a flower bed, and my darling Everett picked every last one to give me. (What better way to remember their glory, than framed by that eager face!)

But dandelions are free for the picking, and I hope I will have many more sweaty little collections offered to me this spring. When it happens, I will be ready!