123. 15.05.2012 the lonely buttercup

123. 15.05.2012 the lonely buttercup

Just a stone’s throw from the gloriously floral Bryn Pydew, the fields are green. Remarkably green. Nitrogen enriched green. The colour of Man Utd fans faces yesterday green ...you get the idea...green.

Buttercups. It’s how parents work out if their offspring prefer butter or the more healthy option of a vegetable  alternative like Flora or maybe an olive based spread that keeps old people in Italy young, vital and horny. Berlosconi swears by it and has an array of busty signore to apply it. All over. He never actually eats it though and  hates the taste by all accounts.

 The proper name for buttercup – that’s the one that serious horticulturists call them is ranuculus which is derived from Latin for little frog (rana = frog plus a diminutive) probably because a lot of species grow around ponds. 

But in the Germanic languages it has connections with butter, Boterbloem in Dutch, (boter = butter and bloem = bloom)  Butterblume in German and Lurpak-blomst in Danish, although Jakob Larsen will need to confirm that.

Despite it’s connections with butter, it’s toxic to cattle despite the fact that it’s toxic to cowsand tastes vile which is why there are lots of them in fields full of grazing cows.   

People in unenlightened times used to think that it was the yellow that made butter yellow because the cows ate them. The same people also used to think that if you held one up to your neck or smelt one on the night of a full moon you would turn insane, hence the name “crazyweed” which might be a warning because the acid in them  can be toxic to humans too.

Beggars were aware of this and would deliberately rub buttercup juice on their skins to arouse sympathy to blister the skin. A sort of mediaeval chemical peeling. Meanwhile enlightened fishermen used to pour buttercup tea on the ground which brought the worms to the surface.

So there you go, a fact filled post with only one made up fact. But which one?