DIARY: Ruminations, Occasional thoughts & happenings - as they arise
Mushrooms - Sunday 11 September 2005
I was sitting in my garden wilderness last Tuesday morning, early in the
morning, finishing my muesli breakfast in glorious sunshine - having returned
the previous day from Maya's birthday party celebrations in Dublin.
I swear to God it was the hottest morning of the year, even at 8am, and I was
beaming with pleasure at this unexpected September bonus.
As I swigged the remnants of my tea I happened to notice a round, white object
almost at my feet. "Not a mushroom!" I thought.
But it was, I discovered, a four inch (100mm) diameter parasol, with a ribbed
pink underbelly on top of a long stalk.
A mushroom! In my back garden - or what passes for a garden! A miraculous
growth, appearing from nowhere.
Spoors I think you call them.
As I looked at it I recalled early morning excursions of 60 years ago - heading
out over the fields at 7am in September mists, member of an excited throng of
cousins, carrying wicker baskets and shepherded by our Aunt Eileen, all clad in Wellington
boots against the dew.
It was amazing in those days how the information spread throughout the village
that the mushrooms were sprouting, just as the cry used to echo round the
village that "the fish are rising!" and grown men would reach for 15ft
bamboo rods and scurry towards the rocky shore where dozens of mackerel threshed
among millions of swarming fry.
The appearance of this mushroom sparked off precious memories, and having
satisfied that it was a mushroom and not a poisonous toadstool, 
I peeled off its outer skin and popped it in a pan - then I thought to myself, "Would be nice with bacon! - and fried spuds!" So I popped all ingredients into a larger pan:
Wow! Beautiful! The taste of a field mushroom is infinitely
superior to the factory grown version!
They grow in a field near you - if you're lucky! - or in an untidy garden like
mine!