There is a farmer living the middle of the state somewhere in a valley who bears a plot of farmland, a crop providing immense sustenance for the immediate area distributing produce such as corn, potatoes, carrots, and lettuce for a small taste of what’s in store. The value of his assets grew so quickly that he established a beautiful country home along with his fruitful countryside. Life was good, complacently good until one summer day when doing rounds in his large garden he found a single dandelion and without hesitation picked it from the ground because he doesn’t like this particular flower knowing it’s essentially a weed. In the business it’s a rule of thumb: mow it if you want to grow it, pluck it or you’re stuck with it. This specific particular dandelion was dead so without panic and failure he brought it straight inside his house and threw it in furnace so it couldn’t spread like wildfire. All he could think was ‘be agile and be nimble, it’s fragile and it’ll kindle.’ Then somehow enlightenment came upon him, he thought about how much his business ran his world and what needed to change. The dead flower’s spherical shape of fluffy seeds reminded him that he doesn’t have enough fluff in his life, and with all that fluff he will be able to fly like any other dandelion sprout. His life is too rooted and weighed down so of course the first thought is to lighten up and get out in the world. And in doing so, naturally he grabs some cash and lightens his pockets by going to town with it [the relatively nearby mountain towns for starters]. Then as any other dandelion does well, he met a lovely, petite blonde lady who he loved verily and spread his seed. In due time she had a son, and together they three permanently settled in their isolated estate for many years and lived in prosperity. The farm’s production increased each year along with the health and growth of their son. He became stronger and smarter until one day near the end of summertime, easily the hottest season in recent memory, the boy was overcome with an unusual sense of curiosity about the outside world beyond home on the range.
So naturally, after home school while harvesting the corn, he asks his dad what he wanted to be growing up. His dad jokes that he only ever wanted to be ‘stalk broker,’ but assures his son understand that there are finer things in life than your job. He suggests that his son find a fine girl and leave the valley behind for some time to do so. His last words were, “When you take off that’s when everything will ignite.” The boy wanted to talk more over supper, and that evening he asked his mom what she wanted to be when she was younger. She instinctively joked that she wanted to be fireman, but then admitted that she just wanted to find true love and maybe also once wanted to be a ski bum is all. She looks over and winks at her worried hubby then utters, “By the way honey this corn is uncomfortably delicious. Its sweetness might keep me up all night! Oh, and honey bee please tell more about what you and your father have talked about.” The boy talks of plans to find a wife and stuff, plans he’s plotted since their prior chat. His father suggests that if he leaves so soon then he do it for the three winter months and return to his duties on the farm come the fourth month whether he has a wife or not. On a warm November day the family went to town for business, to distribute their crop and drop their son off in one of the mountain towns to travel for three months with two full pockets and one small goal.
Unfortunately for much of the winter over much of the land there wasn’t much snow buildup. The winter months came and went, but their typical climate didn’t carry with it and the lack of moisture imminently lead to a drought early in the spring sparking a forest fire nearby a surrounding mountain town which alarmed life on the farm. The son came home soon after, and drought had seemingly stricken his quest and exhausted his thirst for love. The luck wasn’t there, and this trend continues and then one day a flash wildfire threatened some homes in a mountain town forcing much of its community into the nearest valley. Since there was nowhere else to go aside from the plot’s perimeter a small mass of townspeople came to farmer’s home asking for temporary aid. The mom wasn’t too happy with these developments because she hasn’t even got the chance to catch up with her son who has his eyes locked on a pretty girl in the small crowd who catches him staring. As for the dad, for some reason all he can think about is a particular flower and without debate offers his hospitality. Although the family didn’t have enough beds to go around they made makeshift mattresses with resources such as sacks of potatoes, hay bales, and pelt blankets, things of that sort. The boy expresses to his mother his intrigue for this particular girl, but the mother disagrees and extends his comparison;
“She’s just dandy, mom, just dandy like the flower.”
“If she’s a dandelion my dear then she’s a weed and her kind only spreads like wildfire.”
“This sounds like dad’s story, but it’s like negative instead.”
“Well she and her posse are here exactly because of that fact, and now somehow she’s your love? You had three straight months for sport, and now that you’ve come all the way home here is where you’re going to start playing, in front of your mother who hasn’t seen you in three months?”
“Mother, I’m not arguing with you and do I have to remind you that beside those three months we spent my entire life together. Let’s just get a bed ready for her, please.”
“Well then she’s getting a cot stuffed of that awful sweet corn, not potatoes like the others. If you let her sleep in these conditions then I’ll not question her any longer.”
“At least give her extra straw.”
“That’s fine, she’ll need it.”
They halt their bargaining and go greet the pretty girl who allows the mother to show her to bed where she’s insured that her cot is ‘as comfy as peas in a pod.’ Then the next morning after everyone was awake and eating breakfast the mom asked the pretty girl how she’d slept.
“Not well, my back is quite stiff and my dreams were a little eerie.”
“Ah, well I’m so sorry to hear that. There’s nothing like sleeping in your own bed.” She concludes in concession to the wishes of her son who is summoned over.
He anxiously approaches the pretty girl and timidly asks is she’d like to hear a corny joke.
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