In April, dandelions sprout yellow splashes of color on fresh green carpets. I don't see them as pesky wild weeds that ruin a manicured lawn; instead, they are sunbursts on a rainy day.

I can see how dandelions might rub some people the wrong way. Pick a dandelion and your hand gets covered in a milky white sap that taints everything you touch for the rest of the day with a bitter flavor. The yellow spots on your jeans? Dandelion stains from your last picnic. And, that flower garden that you labored over to plant will look more like a happenstance scattering of wild flowers when dandelions come to call. Some people suggest eliminating dandelions by hand-pulling them and yanking out the taproots (depending on the soil, taproots can extend up to 15-feet deep—so it might take more than a pluck).

Rather than spending time fretting over the helpless weeds, however, we should be celebrating them. There are many uses for them including dandelion wine, dandelion coffee, and best of all, dandelion-crowns.

If you are interested in trying a new beverage, dandelion wine might satisfy your taste buds. (Unfortunately, the fermentation process will not be completed before Ivies).

To make: Pick the flowers when they are fully open. Set one gallon of water to boil, and while it heats, remove the steams and as much of the green material from the flower heads as possible.

Pour the boiling water over the flowers (2 quarts of flowers should suffice), cover with a cloth, and leave to steep for two days. When the time has passed, pour the mixture back into a pot and bring to a boil with orange peels and a teaspoon of powdered ginger for 10 minutes. Strain the mixture through filter paper (coffee filters work well). Once cooled, add one cup of orange juice and one package of dried yeast. Let this brew stand overnight and then pour it into bottles. Set the uncorked bottles in a dark place (a closet or cellar) for three weeks. Cork and store bottles in a cool place. The wine should age six months in the bottle before tasting.

If that process sounds too painstakingly long, you can also be intoxicated with the smell of dandelion buds when you wear a fashionable dandelion-crown, a skill I learned like all little Danish children. My mother taught me how to make dandelion crowns, and I have whipped them up on various occasions, receiving ooo's and aaa's from lookers-on. Dandelion-crown-making is not a difficult skill to acquire; once mastered, it will bring you honor and esteem from your peers.

Here's how: Pick a bunch of about 30 dandelions, picking them at the lowest point of the stem that you can find. Then, take one flower and hold it horizontally, with the stem pointing to the right. Place a second flower vertically in front of the first, this one with the stem pointing down. Wrap the stem of the second flower behind the stem of the first and bring the stem between the two flower heads. Finish by lining up the second stem horizontally beside the first. Repeat this pattern with each flower until your crown is long enough to fit. Then, connect the two ends of the crown by weaving the stems of the end flowers through the first.

Dandelion-crowns are the "in" accessory during Ivies week. They are bright, scream floral royalty, and make the perfect gifts for people you admire. What are you waiting for? Go crown your friends!