There are mushrooms in the van. You know me, I like mushrooms, I love them, I tend to go a little bit elatedly loopy whenever I see them. I'll probably have a post soon all about the magnificent mushrooms I photographed on our hike Sunday, and let me tell you again, they were amazing.
But they don't belong in our stupid van, our much-needed storage area, full of clothes for the kids to grow into and an old typewriter, a sewing machine and my mom's old journals. Most of it's just junk, but there's definitely some stuff certain individuals would sorely miss. Mushrooms, on the other hand, do not belong in there. Nope. They don't go in there, decomposing stuff and poofing clouds of who knows what (spores) all over the van, where I'm hoping my flarging birth-certificate is. The birth certificate I desperately need for my Learners permit so I can actually drive in driving school.
But nobody cares that the sun window was dropped down into the van, leaving a wide open entrance for the elements and more spiders and I kinda think I heard squeaking when I tossed a shoe in the corner after I saw the fracking mushrooms and hightailed it out of there. Spiders, I can deal with; they're in my house, and I even feel a little bad when I squish them; mice are okay too, whatever, but mushrooms, those are on a whole other level.
I guess mostly it's a combination of the three, their whole is greater than the sum of their parts. I really don't know what to do short of cleaning the whole thing out in a bullet-proof hazmat suit (or whatever those are called) and sealing the stupid sun window shut forever.
But they don't belong in our stupid van, our much-needed storage area, full of clothes for the kids to grow into and an old typewriter, a sewing machine and my mom's old journals. Most of it's just junk, but there's definitely some stuff certain individuals would sorely miss. Mushrooms, on the other hand, do not belong in there. Nope. They don't go in there, decomposing stuff and poofing clouds of who knows what (spores) all over the van, where I'm hoping my flarging birth-certificate is. The birth certificate I desperately need for my Learners permit so I can actually drive in driving school.
But nobody cares that the sun window was dropped down into the van, leaving a wide open entrance for the elements and more spiders and I kinda think I heard squeaking when I tossed a shoe in the corner after I saw the fracking mushrooms and hightailed it out of there. Spiders, I can deal with; they're in my house, and I even feel a little bad when I squish them; mice are okay too, whatever, but mushrooms, those are on a whole other level.
I guess mostly it's a combination of the three, their whole is greater than the sum of their parts. I really don't know what to do short of cleaning the whole thing out in a bullet-proof hazmat suit (or whatever those are called) and sealing the stupid sun window shut forever.
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