Cokes & Mushrooms
For several years now I've been intending to give mushroom farming a try. It sounded easy enough. Just get yourself some oak logs 3 to 4 feet long and 3 to 8 inches in diameter; drill some holes in them and stuff the holes with shitaki mushroom spores; throw the whole shooting match into the woods; and begin collecting mushrooms 6 to 18 months later. So it was that I ordered the spores to arrive on the very day that I got the flu, which just happened to be the very day I intended to begin cutting the logs. Then it rained and muddied the logging road and then ... well, the road to hell is truly paved with good intentions.
Having run out of excuses of any kind, I cut the first of the mushroom logs yesterday evening.I expected to drive up to a pile of laps, whip out the chain saw and be done in a half hour. Nooooo. The logs I needed were inevitably buried under a half a ton of logs I didn't need. And, a path usually needed clearing just to get to those. After a few hours I had 25 of the 100 logs for which I'd bought spores and that was enough for one day!
And, as for the day, the relative humidity was 99 and 44/100 percent. You could cut the air with a knife and it would bleed water. I and every item of clothing were soon soaked.
The reality of mushroom farming had sunk in. Some work was involved.
Anyhow, upon arriving back at the ranch, I had to decide which would be first, that cold Coca Cola in the refrigerator or a cooling shower.
The Coke won.
Now, folk, when you are hot there is nothing better that a refrigerated Coke poured over ice in a Mason jar. As the cold Coke hits the colder ice, little bits of Coke spit into your face as a dirty foam forms over the ice. You take the first swallow of the cold, sweet liquid that flows under the foam accumulated on the ice and tickles your nose when you tilt the jar back against your lips. Shortly thereafter the foam subsides and it's just the jar, ice and that delectable brown liquid. Little ice crystal form in it and as you drink the next swallow, you feel them flowing past your tongue and down your throat. Cold. Wet. Sweet.
And, the taste? Well, there simply isn't an acceptable substitute. Oh, Coke makes many variations of it for other countries around the world. And many competitors try. But there is the one and only American Coke. I remember being given a French Coke while returning to the US from France several years ago. The stewardess recognize me as American and took the Coke away saying, "Give me that. I'll find you a real Coke!" And, she was right, of course. Just what was the company thinking when it introduced New Coke some time back? You cannot improve upon perfection, folks.
So, today it's another 25 logs but this time I'm taking a change of clothes and a Coca Cola with me!
Having run out of excuses of any kind, I cut the first of the mushroom logs yesterday evening.I expected to drive up to a pile of laps, whip out the chain saw and be done in a half hour. Nooooo. The logs I needed were inevitably buried under a half a ton of logs I didn't need. And, a path usually needed clearing just to get to those. After a few hours I had 25 of the 100 logs for which I'd bought spores and that was enough for one day!
And, as for the day, the relative humidity was 99 and 44/100 percent. You could cut the air with a knife and it would bleed water. I and every item of clothing were soon soaked.
The reality of mushroom farming had sunk in. Some work was involved.
Anyhow, upon arriving back at the ranch, I had to decide which would be first, that cold Coca Cola in the refrigerator or a cooling shower.
The Coke won.
Now, folk, when you are hot there is nothing better that a refrigerated Coke poured over ice in a Mason jar. As the cold Coke hits the colder ice, little bits of Coke spit into your face as a dirty foam forms over the ice. You take the first swallow of the cold, sweet liquid that flows under the foam accumulated on the ice and tickles your nose when you tilt the jar back against your lips. Shortly thereafter the foam subsides and it's just the jar, ice and that delectable brown liquid. Little ice crystal form in it and as you drink the next swallow, you feel them flowing past your tongue and down your throat. Cold. Wet. Sweet.
And, the taste? Well, there simply isn't an acceptable substitute. Oh, Coke makes many variations of it for other countries around the world. And many competitors try. But there is the one and only American Coke. I remember being given a French Coke while returning to the US from France several years ago. The stewardess recognize me as American and took the Coke away saying, "Give me that. I'll find you a real Coke!" And, she was right, of course. Just what was the company thinking when it introduced New Coke some time back? You cannot improve upon perfection, folks.
So, today it's another 25 logs but this time I'm taking a change of clothes and a Coca Cola with me!
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