Color Your World: dandelion diggers (30.01)

Color Your World: 120 Days of Crayola. January 30: dandelion

Today, some flash fiction about my father and his hatred of dandelions.

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Digging dandelions was my father’s hobby. He’d shed his uniform Friday afternoon, and slouch around the weekend in ancient pants and sweatshirts. Summer found him out on the lawn, working in the hot sun, so he said, to justify a cool beer later.

When he retired, my parents bought their first house. With a lawn full of dandelions. I know. After my Dad died, I battled them for awhile.

I wanted to scatter dandelion seeds in with the grass seed on his freshly dug grave. My mother objected; what if the cemetery committee found out.

Whenever I was in town, I went to talk with my father. Much to my joy, the year after we planted the bonsai rhododendron next to his grave, a single dandelion sprouted in the middle of his plot.

I knew it was a sign from him. I grinned. No dandelion digger needed.

 

A selection of dandelion diggers. My father’s were usually bent, with peeling paint and dull tips.

© taleweavering

 

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