Early one morning...
Picking shrooms in the Sussex countryside. A "woman of a certain age" approaches, all pearls and twin-set, walking her dog. As she passes, she smiles and politely enquires as to what I was doing. "Picking wild mushrooms," I reply, smugly confident that this will satisfy her curiosity. "Oh, do you mean Happy Mushrooms?" she says. "Er, yes, that's right."

She continues on her way, and about half an hour later returns. As she approaches, she says, "I found these, are they the kind you're looking for?"

And they were. Bless.

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(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 17 Sep 2010, 17:03, Reply)