That was it! The staring thing is over. No more pollen on the brain today. I really need to pull a few weeds and do some spring clean up. I got back to work and tried to control my field of vision. Then it happened again! There, in front of me, right in the middle of my garden, a dandelion. It was perfect and the first one of the season. I looked around and saw no one was looking. I knew, if I was as stealthy as I could be, I could save its life. Not that I had feelings for this little gem but after all, I am a beekeeper. “Oh, why not”, I thought. I would just transplant it, that’s what I’d do! A brief thought raced through my mind about what kind of man transplants a dandelion? The hardware stores dedicate full isles to herbicides just for this little dear. Murder I thought, with a sneer on my face. I pushed this sickening thought aside and went for my surgical tools. My shovel, bucket and fertilizer were soon in hand. The extraction went better than I had planned. Not a leaf wilted while I hurriedly mixed a life saving solution of fertilizer and administered it to the patient.
The next step was to find a suitable new home. No, not for me, for the dandelion. The sunny, south side of the property would do just fine. After selecting the perfect, sun drenched spot close to my property line, out came the scalpel, I mean shovel. I was on my knees placing the patient into the nest, I mean hole, when a shadow appeared over us. My neighbor had come over to see what treasure I was planting so close to his yard. “Why I’m just transplanting a dandelion” I said with a stupid looking smile on my face. Although I found myself slipping into a pollen induced psychosis I still held on to some focus of reality, I think. “Well, isn’t that special” he said. “Yep,… just… damn… special.” I saw him take three small steps backward. He stopped at an arm’s length away and squinted his eyes at us. “Don’t you know that’s a weed”, he said. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck bristle with indignation and almost told him to lower his voice. I think he must have taken pity on us at that point because he stood there with a smile on his face. A nervous kind of smile. Finally he said, “Ya know what I’ll do for you, I’ll let you transplant as many dandelions from my lawn to yours that you want.” Before I could reply I noticed that he was slowly backing off, then he turned, and quickly walked back to his house. I’m absolutely sure this kind gesture of his was the start to a solid friendship. Yep, a long, lasting, solid friendship.