THERE'S NOT MUSH-ROOM INSIDE

I'm convinced I could never suffer from agoraphobia, and though I could imagine what it might be like, probably have very little understanding of the plight of those who do. Plenty of sympathy as it is a debilitating condition, but now that I’m into my fifth day at home due to the flu, I just had to get out. Needed some fresh air, needed to make my body move again as it is still in its achy breaky stage. Walked the 200 metres to the post office and store to get my mail and Monday paper, sun in my face, beautiful autumn day, being sick is such a waste of time and energy.

Stripped the bed to get rid of all the germy bedding, couple of loads of washing on the line, then out into the backyard for what has been of most interest these past few days. My daily photo shoot of mushrooms. Whether they’re edible or not is another thing, but with the infinite varieties growing prolifically at the moment and not knowing their specific species or genus or whatever, I’m not sure I’d be game to chuck them in the wok. Could kill myself in one fell swoop, or at the very least give myself a crook gut or fuzzy head. Then again, I could be missing out on a feast, as I don’t actually like mushrooms anyway. As an almost vegetarian, I know they’d be good for me, but when you can’t stand the smell of them cooking, the texture or the taste, having them spring up everywhere in my yard is a bit of a waste.

Am amazed how fast they grow, as these photos over the past five days show, and the largest specimens of late have grown to just over 20cm across. Check out the fairy toadstools from a couple of entries ago (well, that’s what I call them anyway) they’re a bit more spectacular.