Alaskans are falling out of love with rhubarb, and I don't blame them.

It is rhubarb season in Alaska. The loyal reader knows I think I am the only one in these parts who has an excuse to not harvest the stuff: 18 years of daily consumption and part caretaker of the longest row of rhubarb ever planted. That's me. So what is your excuse?

While not quite as prolific as the dandelion or cottonwood, clumps of rhubarb pop up in most Alaska yards every spring. In fact, yours is not really an Alaska yard unless it does. This is probably only because it was considered a local fruit by early pioneers and fresh fruits of the local variety were a rarity in Alaska.

You all grow it. Or better put, it grows all by itself, most probably up against a fence. Even condominium and townhouse development have rhubarb plants somewhere in the landscaping. I know this because it pains me to see a clump that needs dividing, and most of you need to divide your clumps. Of course, this would just lead to more crop, so you don't.

Why are so many Alaskans shunning this once super popular crop? All over town I see it and wonder if finally time has caught up with rhubarb in Alaska. Is my reader finally coming to understand the depth of dislike of things rhubarb even without having to eat it everyday at breakfast for 18 years?

Has the stringy, acidic, needs-lots-of-sugar-or-fruit-juice-added taste finally caught up with Alaskans who can now readily purchase any fruit grown in California practically the day after it is picked? (Not to mention that Alaskans now grow kiwis, apples, cherries and tomatoes.)

Has rhubarb "fruit" finally fallen out of favor as it has in the Lower 48? If so, then there is only one thing for the good Alaskan to do with his or her now unwanted crop: Instead of letting it go to seed, pass it off on the unsuspecting tourist like we do sourdough.

These fine folks are looking for something authentic to buy when they come to Alaska. Sourdough, a living brew that most modern homes now do without, used to be a staple up here too. Everyone had a starter and it had to be fed and cared for. Then folks got access to powdered pancakes and Wonder bread and stopped caring for theirs.

Look what happened to that early Alaska food! Unless you are lucky to own some of Ruth Allman's starter and her wonderful book on sourdough (the former dating back to the days of Judge Wickersham who carried the very same culture in his flour pouch or in a special belt while he dogsledded across the territory administering justice), the only time you come across sourdough starter is in a tourist shop or a restaurant that caters to them.

And tourists eat it up. Literally. Someone needs to do the same thing with rhubarb. Write the Alaska Rhubarb Cookbook with a bit of history, a few pictures of the huge plants that used to grow in Skagway or those in the first Anchorage gardens, toss in a bit of humor and maybe some health claims and put the Alaska flag on the cover.

Now, if we can only figure out a way to wrap up a few roots so they can get the book and a bit of your plants — which, no doubt really do need dividing, even if you are not interested in pie or fruit leather. Fruit leather? Hmmm, now that might just sell.

Jeff’s Alaska Garden Calendar

Divide rhubarb: When the clump starts to throw off a seed head, you can divide yours by simply sticking a shovel or spade into its center and digging up half … or a third or a quarter. Then replant the new part(s) or give it away or find an unlocked car at night in your subdivision.

Weed: If you let that chickweed get any bigger, it will start to really smoother your plants. Pull it and remove it from the gardens so it won't re-root. Start hoeing down butter and eggs which has popped up in the usual places: everywhere.

Radish: Your first crop ripe? They don't get better when they get Fair size. Small is best.

Cannabis, dahlia, coleus: These plants have symmetrical sets of leaves. If you pinch the growing tip between two existing leaves, it uses the plant to grow two new tips. It branches. When you want flowers, as you do with cannabis and dahlias, this is the way to increase them. With coleus, you don't want flowers, but bushy plants. This is the trick to get them that way.

Clean up: Nothing makes a yard look better than cleaning up all the debris left over from spring planting. In addition, why not sweep the driveway?

Editor's note: Last week Jeff was honored by the American Horticultural Society, which bestowed upon him their 2016 B.Y Morrison Communication Award, a national award that "recognizes effective and inspirational communication … that advances public interest and participation in horticulture." Congrats, Jeff!

Correction: An earlier version of this story incorrectly identified the author of a classic Alaska sourdough cookbook as Ruth Stout. She was Ruth Allman.