Chickweed in the news!
“Hi. I’m that chickweed plant growing behind your cilantro. Call me Charles,” Charles said. “Many of my Stellaria relatives are already uprooted and layered between hickory leaves in your compost, and that’s okay. We are pleased to get the chance to improve the quality of your future soil amendments. Everyone matters.
“But a little about myself. Regarding weather preferences, I’m like Goldilocks– not too hot, not too cool. I can handle some sun, but shade sometimes is better, and I like my feet a little damp. We sprout all over the place in spring– gardens, yards, waste areas– and we disappear when it is too hot, but we return in cooler weather.
“Regarding the fact we sprout everywhere in spring… here’s a family secret: you know those clumps of my family members you uprooted and casually tossed aside – they still can make viable seeds while layered in the mulch pile or lying on the ground, and those seeds might remain viable for ten winters. If you have us now, you will have us then. We mean no harm, and, if you knew more about us, you would learn to love us.”
*Transition to talking head on local TV news set* “Thank you, Charles, for the editorial, and good luck on not being thrown onto the pile. I’m Montague McSplatter, and it’s time for the news. There was great news today for all of you with pet mice. The Institute for Studying Things announced that obese mice fed a precise dosage of freeze-dried chickweed juice not only did not gain more weight but their cholesterol levels moderated.
“Apparently, chickweed juice has an enzyme which moderated how their tiny intestines absorbed fats and cheese and whatnot. Who thinks of these things!
“In other news, Oliver’s Grocery is staging a “fresh chickweed on demand” sale today, and to tell us about it is our on-the-spot reporter Darlene Davenport.”
“That’s right, Montague, I’m standing near this line of folks patiently waiting to get their orders of chickweed. As you might not know, Montague, chickweed is best very fresh. It won’t last long in the fridge, so Oliver has a squadron of farmers, gardeners and homeowners on call to harvest a fresh batch of chickweed and deliver it here when they get the call. Oliver is working two cell phones to keep up with the demand.
“In the line here is Theresa from Green Forest. Theresa, why did you travel to Oliver’s for your chickweed?”
Spoke Theresa, “For one thing, I saw some places near my yard that had been sprayed with something crazy, so I’m not taking chances. I put chickweed in my salads, and I haven’t had any for a few days now. If I need to, I make a sort of poultice with it for rashes, bug bites and little burns. My aunt claims it soothes her arthritis, and my daughter who never calls me says it calms her monthly time.”
“Thanks for sharing,” Darlene emoted,” and you, Sir, why are you waiting in this line?”
“I make a tea from it to ease my kidneys. My hippie grandson taught me that. Also, chickweed seems to help clear out my gut. My wife likes it better that way.”
“Montague,” Darlene hyperbolized, “the word is Oliver has fresh chickweed bread inside, so I’m getting in line, Over and out.”
“Speaking of chickweed bread,” Montague sputtered, “Here in the studio is our favorite chef Sue Flay with a few words about chickweed.”
“Of course,” Flay whispered like Marilyn Monroe singing Happy Birthday. “Did you know chickweed tastes like corn silk? And I make an infused oil with chickweed blended with coconut oil and I rub it all over. Also, you can make pesto with it for your noodles, and it is packed with exciting flavonoids, saponins and more good sounding things. Tonight I’m going to make chickweed and bacon pie, but I won’t eat too much. Just like with purslane and HoHos, it’s not good to overindulge.”