dandelion
Rating: 20 point(s) | Read and rate text individuallyDandelions make a fine wine, and dandelion greens make a fine wilted salad. But best of all, dandelion flowers dot a field with a cheeriness that can't be replicated anywhere.
Amount of texts to »dandelion« | 30, and there are 29 texts (96.67%) with a rating above the adjusted level (-3) |
Average lenght of texts | 201 Characters |
Average Rating | 10.000 points, 5 Not rated texts |
First text | on Apr 14th 2000, 00:24:08 wrote a wee girl about dandelion |
Latest text | on Dec 21st 2003, 08:15:06 wrote Bill Stuart about dandelion |
Some texts that have not been rated at all
(overall: 5) |
on Aug 29th 2002, 12:41:25 wrote
on Oct 18th 2002, 02:12:05 wrote
on Jul 3rd 2000, 08:03:40 wrote |
Dandelions make a fine wine, and dandelion greens make a fine wilted salad. But best of all, dandelion flowers dot a field with a cheeriness that can't be replicated anywhere.
The dandelion, more than any other flower, is the flower of childhood whether one rubs his nose yellow in its pollen, blows its seeds onto the breeze or has to eat the damn greens with mustard sauce.
Most times, I think of weeding a yard. I can imagine those stupid garden tools, and my jeans being torn at the knees.
Some times, I think of blowing the dandelion seeds in peoples' faces.
When I was a child I used to like drinking Dandelion & Burdock. Also, Sasparilla. There was, in fact, a whole range of soft, fizzy drinks: limeade, cherryade, any kind of -ade. Two different factories bottled locally. Now there's only Cola, Cola, Cola, anywhere in the world.
Dandelion dancetheater is a post-modern dance theater company based in the San Francisco Bay Area under the direction of Kimiko and Eric Guthrie-Kupers that collides raw, emotionally-driven, athletic and lyrical movement
with theatrical scenes and gesture to explore the essence of what it is to be alive.
That Vidalia, once exposed to air, began to rot.
That Picadilly, with consummate aplomb, finally published his picaresque autobiography.
That I once stood in a decrepit formica kitchen and prepared a dandelion salad for an ex-lover.
That it was August. Dusk. Once.
That Frank Leigh Dearie did write down »I Love You,« and mail it.
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