Fond Remembrances

This is a photo of a Morel mushroom. My brother took this photo yesterday...he found the mushroom in his back yard.

It brings back memories of days-gone-by. When I was a child, my family always went mushroom hunting (for Morel mushrooms). It was a big family affair. My grandfather, grandmother, uncle, mom, dad, brothers, maybe a cousin or two.

There was one specific place we would go. I grew up near the Illinois/Indiana border and my grandparents and uncle lived in Indiana. My grandpa had a friend that owned some wooded property in Indiana that was great for mushroom hunting.

We would all put on our jeans, long sleeved shirts, hats (don't want to pick up a tick or get poison ivy, either) and go traipsing off with our bread bags we had saved. We parked on the side of the road, went over/under an electric fence, walked down a hill, climbed on this tree that was sort of grown into another fence and off we would go.

It was always great if you found the first mushroom of the day! I, personally, never ate the mushrooms, but I sure enjoyed looking for them! It was always this time of year that we would go mushroom hunting, too.

Once we got back to Grandma and Grandpa's house, we all had to take showers WITH Fels-Naptha soap (just in case we had in fact come into any contact with poison ivy), and then have our hair check over to make sure we had not acquired any creepy-crawlies in there!

Occasionally, in the course of their work, my dad or brothers will still find some mushrooms. In fact, last year they were working for a bit in that same old area of Indiana and they found a bunch! But, it's a bit odd that my brother, K, found one in his back yard in Illinois. I guess he has a running bet with our brother, J, on who will find the first mushroom each year!

My sister-in-law, J's wife, plans to cook up this lone mushroom for her and my nephew tonight!