Emma battles a surprising crop of mushrooms, before coming face-to-face with Broc 

I WOKE up the other morning to a crop of mushrooms after popping up overnight all over the garden. Now, if I’d been trying to grow them that would have been brilliant, but this was purely accidental. I wish the same thing had happened with those tomatoes I laboured so much love over earlier this year, but there you go. The lawn had quite a number of them and so did one particular flower bed. They looked a bit magical, and yes I’ll admit, I did wonder for a brief moment if…you know…but I wasn’t going to chance it. 

My husband suggested mushroom risotto for dinner that night but after that incident in Australia where a woman poisoned three relatives by serving toxic mushrooms for lunch I said we’d play it safe with carbonara instead. Billy the retriever was also being a bit enthusiastic with them. I looked out the window at one stage and they were flying through the air, spores being spread for miles, so there was nothing for it but to get the shovel out and root them all up, cute and all as they looked. Not that it mattered, as there was a tonne more again the next day. 

A quick Google search revealed the presence of mushrooms is a sign of good soil (at least that) and moist conditions; better give thanks to all that heavy rain we had recently so. I think we can say with certainty that any hopes of an Indian summer are as damp as last week. But on the plus side the change in season is giving us loads to talk about: the leaves falling, if you’ve put the heating on yet or succumbed to a hot water bottle, energy costs, the evenings closing in. The options are limitless. 

I don’t know how we’ll get anything done, there’s so much to cover. And then just when all thoughts of summer were fading into oblivion, we had a blast of blue skies and warmth which saw us all racing to get another swim in, and tackle our gardens (or in my case dig up mushrooms). We took advantage of the blue skies and enjoyed a trip to Fota where we were endlessly entertained by the Gibbons, Honestly, they’re worth the visit alone. In a word, mindblowing (or is that two words? I’m never quite sure). 

In other news, we’re still in the middle of our housepainting. Now, the painter is doing an impeccable job, perfection, but I am living on my nerves as I’m the type of person who is not great with disorder. On a Monday I like to know what I’m doing for dinner that Thursday, and things like full laundry baskets, cluttered countertops and unplumped cushions  make me uneasy. I’m not quite the type who has the bags for life all neatly folded in the boot of the car, but that’s what I aspire to. I can’t help it. It’s how I am. 

Apparently as a child I was at my happiest when we’d be told to tidy up our toys at the end of the day and I’d happily relieve my siblings of the chore, and do it myself, to make sure it was done properly. Where I’m going with this is that we’ve been living in a slight bit of chaos, having to empty out rooms and the rest of it, and while the wheels haven’t completely come off, they’re hanging on for dear life. It’s only very minor discomfort, for a large gain I know, but it’s given me a real appreciation for anyone who lives in their house during a renovation.

All the places where you put things like your phone charger, keys, bags, and glasses are out of bounds, so everything gets misplaced. Making proper meals becomes a hassle in make-shift kitchens and I’ll admit getting take-out was a novelty for the first two nights, but I don’t want to see another chip until 2027. 

Oh, and don’t mention the dust. Ok, let’s talk about the dust. It. Is. Everywhere. It’s on every surface, in every crevice, in the deep, dark recesses of my soul. All duster donations welcome
please! 

The funny thing is that while my nerves are frazzled my smallie is living her best life. The TV somehow ended up in her bedroom as it has the strongest WiFi in the house, and sure what’s not to love about eating pizza, lying on your bed watching Netflix? It’s like her own little bedsit. She may never readjust to normal life. On the other hand, I fear for my sanity if I don’t get law and order
restored soon!

Having said all of that, far more horrifying than the dust and disorder was when a badger crossed the road in front of me when I was driving the other night, around a minute from my house. I nearly died of fright. It was the size of him for starters, he was like a good-sized bear scurrying along at a steady pace, pausing just ever so slightly to look back and give me a sinister side eye before disappearing into
the night. 

The badger in The Wind and the Willows was a gentle, docile, wise old chap, but this guy put the fear of god in me. I tore home and half-thought he’d be in the door before me. It certainly didn’t help that my family farm had a herd test a few days later, hence the possibly over-the-top heeby jeebies, but what a ‘sett’ to all the same!

Finally, what’s our plan for when The Traitors is over? Gas how it has really occupied the nation and given us a bit of a lift! If anyone is really struggling and finds themselves at a loose end I’ve a bit of dusting that needs doing. Just throwing it out there…