I pulled up a dandelion the other day, and I immediately thought of Buttercup the bunny. She loved dandelion greens. When she was younger and more sprightly, she’d meet me at the door when I came inside, hoping I was carrying her favorite fresh treat. More often than not, I was.
I still pull up the dandelions, but they either go in the compost or get diced into a pesto or seasoning of some sort.
I get the same thoughts whenever Amigo is done with a page of Braille – for example, his rehearsal schedules from Tuesday nights’ Zoom chorus gathering. He used to hand the Braille paper, a little stiffer than printer paper but not as thick as cardboard, straight to Buttercup. She would nibble around the edges until we had an odd piece of leftover Braille, and then we’d add it to the compost or recycling.
Today, I harvested kale, Dear darling husband Chuck doesn’t like kale, but it’s so easy to grow! Buttercup liked it, so I planted at least a little kale every year. She died in late May, so there’s no bunny in the house to eat the kale that’s coming up. I picked as much as I could today and dried it in the oven for kale powder. All the nutritional value and none of the taste, as my dear darling sister-in-law would say.
Maybe I could add dandelion greens to the kale powder? Now that’s a thought.
Readers, do you like kale or not? There seems to be no in between on this question.
I do like kale.
Isn’t sad but also sweet when you get reminders of Buttercup? That’s how I feel when memories are perked.