Tuesday, 9 September 2014
We live surrounded by the Bog of Allen, and bogland is never more than a short walk in any direction. It's an interesting environment, bog -- when dry the ground is hard and maroon, sometimes barely covered by wildflowers or broken by patches of trees, yet when it rains it swells like dough and bounces under the feet like a mattress.
Most importantly for us, though, you get some mushrooms there, and on Sunday The Girl and I went hunting. I've written before about our love of mushrooms, and we found some great birch boletuses, which went into lunch for the next day.
Under our own soil we have a colony of ink-cap mycellium, and sometimes their mushrooms grow between our plants like a second crop. These were gathered the same day, squeezing between the kale.