{"id":9930,"date":"2026-02-14T00:01:00","date_gmt":"2026-02-14T00:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/brendans-island.com\/catholic-citizen\/?p=9930"},"modified":"2026-02-13T17:53:48","modified_gmt":"2026-02-13T17:53:48","slug":"rhubarb-and-clematis-or-maybe-honeysuckle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/brendans-island.com\/catholic-citizen\/rhubarb-and-clematis-or-maybe-honeysuckle\/","title":{"rendered":"Rhubarb and Clematis, or Maybe Honeysuckle"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"Rosendahl's<\/a><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

There wasn’t anything special about the back yard at 818.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But 818 is the place where I spent the bulk of my childhood, so it’s a place I often go on trips down memory lane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Let’s see, where to start. Directions are as good as any. Our house was on a north-south street, facing west, so the back of the lot was at the east end. The driveway ran along the lot’s north side. It was just wide enough for a car, leaving a foot-wide strip of dirt next to the house. I liked the lily of the valley patch that grew there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The garage was in back, maybe 20 feet past the house. A white picket fence ran from the northeast corner of house to the garage, with a gate by the house. A concrete slab, about 10 by 10 feet, ran between the fence and the back porch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As a child, it felt like a spacious area. And, for the sort of neighborhood we were in, it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At any rate, the back porch’s outside door faced north. Turning right, I’d soon be on the grass, with the garage on my left and a rhubarb patch next to the garage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a>Firecrackers and Rhubarb Crisp<\/h3>\n\n\n
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\"Scott<\/a>
(Mostly) edible plants in a Shakopee, MN, park.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

Rhubarb is one those things we can eat, except for the parts we shouldn’t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Like pretty much everything else, rhubarb’s history is complicated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Adding to the chaos<\/s> fascination, not all “rhubarb” are the “hybrids … of Rheum in the family Polygonaceae”:1<\/a><\/sup> plants that folks speaking today’s American English call “rhubarb”.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The leaves of our rhubarb look tasty, and have an abundance of toxins.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One of those toxins, oxalic acid, is good for cleaning metal, killing mites, and shutting down our kidneys.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rhubarb is also part of the new “Edible Landscape” garden project in Shakopee, part of Minnesota’s Metro. I like the idea, but hope they got the heads-up about those edible plants in their garden.2<\/a><\/sup><\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the other hand, some folks have<\/strong> used rhubarb leaves as seasoning. I suppose it depends on how much someone eats, how they prepare the leaves, and individual risk tolerance where nifty tastes are involved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My folks told me that rhubarb leaves were toxic and that I shouldn’t eat them. So I didn’t. But I did set off lady finger firecrackers on the leaves. My parents didn’t object. I’m not sure why.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was in the late 1950s, when American culture wasn’t as remarkably and selectively risk-averse as it is now.3<\/a><\/sup><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Getting back to those rhubarb plants. The stems \u2014 good grief, turns out they<\/strong> contain emodin, which apparently can damage genetic information.4<\/a><\/sup> I wonder if anyone’s thought of doing a study showing that water is bad for us?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Anyway, rhubarb stems may not be 100% absolutely idiot-proof safe. But they do make good eating. It’s been decades since I’ve enjoyed rhubarb crisp: something we’d have as a treat, after the rhubarb was ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That’s a pleasant memory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a>Half-Remembered Flowers<\/h3>\n\n\n\n
\"J.<\/a>
“Clematis”, Arboretum Review, J. R. Gilbert, Agriculture Extension Service, University of Minnesota. (1973)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I don’t know who was responsible for maintaining the rhubarb patch. More accurately, I don’t remember.<\/p>\n\n\n

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\"Gill<\/a><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

It’s been upwards of six decades since that was current information.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I do remember that Grandma Hovde had a small flower garden along the east side of my room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was living with us by that time, which puts it in the mid and late 1950s. I don’t know or remember when she moved in. As far as my memory went, she had always lived upstairs at 818.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her flower garden included a trellis, on the wall at the south end.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I started writing this, my memory told me hollyhocks grew there. My wife told me this was \u2014 unlikely. She’s right. Hollyhocks don’t need or use trellises.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the time, and into my teens, I’d have known what the trellis-flowers were. But decades have come and gone, and that memory is no longer accessible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I do remember that my grandmother was not satisfied with how her trellis-flowers grew. I thought they looked fine, but didn’t have her knowledge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Those trellis-flowers might have been clematis. That’d make sense, given the location, although photos I’ve seen of clematis don’t quite match what I remember.5<\/a><\/sup> But again: it’s been decades since that was current experience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a>Snapdragons and Making Sense<\/h4>\n\n\n\n
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