It's no secret around here... I like mushrooms. No, not the kind you chop up and stir into grape KoolAid, and no I'm not talking about the fried appetizers that I inevitably burn the holy heckers out of the roof of my mouth on when I can't be patient and have to chomp into them right when they're served. (By the way, that piece of skin that hangs down behind your two front teeth is called your 'frenum' and it really doesn't like to get burned... just sayin.)
Nope, I'm talking about the good ol' yard shroom. Those little guys who pop in my lawn, or grow on the side of Big Dave's wood pile. Yep, they make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
So you can imagine my delight when I found a little colony of toadstooly goodness as I was mowing this morning. I saw them at the very last minute, and thought for sure that the John Deere blades would splatter them to bits, but the deck setting was high enough and the little fungaloids were growing low enough that they were left unscathed.
It made me happy.
Which was a good thing, because only minutes before I'd driven over a pile of semi-fresh doggie poop, and unfortunately it was high enough to catch the blades. Gross.
Anyhoo, I finished mowing and ran inside to grab my camera... it was time to go on a fungus photoshoot!
I mean sure, at first glance they're nothing spectacular right?
Ah, but looky looky what happens through the magic of macro...
Shut up... those are the same little guys that my (evil-fungi-destroyer) neighbor likes to stomp on and grind into the ground? Oh, the horror.
Say cheese little fellers...
I swear, if I could zap myself with a shrink ray gun like that Morano dude did in Honey I Shrunk the Kids, I'd move in. "Yes, I'll take the two-story toadstool with a view of the garden thank you."
Adorable.
On a less adorable, but still damned impressive note, here's a lovely fellow I found on a rotten log in the woods...
It looks like an exotic fish or something doesn't it? Simply beautiful.
But then I got to thinkin'... I remember a time when there was a fungus among us that wasn't so beautiful, adorable, or even faintly pleasant. So I ran upstairs, rooted through my scrapbooks, and found this...
Oh yes... sweet (not) memories.
See, once upon a time there was a suuuuuper cute fluffy gray kitten who lived with her mommy kitty and siblings underneath a trailer in Alabama.
(You've got to know where this is going don't you?)
Well, I... being the cat lover and having a little girl who's also a cat lover... and the two of us having a reeeeeeally patient, kind, caring and oh so so so very accomodating man in our lives who humors us by going under said trailer and capturing said fluffy gray kitten, came back to Savannah with a yowling ball of fur.
And she was SO cute.
And a little itchy.
But she was SO cute.
And then I became a little itchy.
And Big Dave became a little itchy.
And Miss Priss became a little itchy.
Hmmm.
So I took our new, precious, adorable ball of fur to the vet. And the vet gave me a look. And a sigh. And a diagnosis.
Looks like we brought back more than just one critter, we brought back a load of fuuuuuuun guys.
Fungi.
Better known as...
Ringworm.
Are you freakin' kidding me???? You can get ringworm from a fluffy gray damned near perfect little ball of kitty love?
Yep.
I had it on my nose. Big Dave had it INSIDE his belly button. Miss Priss had it everywhere. Our basset hound, Buttercup, had it all over her head.
It took prescription meds and weeks of itchin' and scratchin' to finally say goodbye this little surprise.
Damn cat.
But do I hold this experience against all fungi? Do I judge all fungus by the bad attitude of one? No.
I still love you fungus. Just not your satanic cousin.
And for anyone still reading this four thousand page long dissertation on my life with fungus, I'd like to say hello and thank you. I promise not to talk about fungus for at least a month.
Have a lovely weekend. ;)
