"Toadstools and Strawberries??"

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Gather in the Mushrooms,

Put 'em in a pot,

Pop 'em in the oven,

And serve 'em piping hot.

One of many of Benny Hill's songs.....you either like him or loathe him.....I leave it to you.

But....

This damp, mild weather has brought up toadstools or mushrooms of all shapes and sizes all over the place.

I must have found six different species on my lawn yesterday.

Here's just one batch....... Pity you can't eat them.

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Ah, now what have we here......it looks like a mushroom with a red nob on top!

Actually the red object was on the grass behind and was.......a 'strawberry' that had fallen from my 'strawberry tree' above.

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The correct name for this tree is 'Arbutus unedo' and is native to the south-west of Ireland.

I planted mine about ten years ago and seems fairly happy here.

This tree is very unusual because it produces this fruit from last years flowers at the SAME time as it produces new flowers for next years fruit. If you click on the above picture you will see the little flowers which will produce fruit in twelve months time.

The word 'unedo' seems to imply that the fruit is inedible, but it is in fact not poisonous but totally unpalatable. I have tried......exceedingly tart and dry.

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It is soft and juicy just like a strawberry, but not to be recommended and even the birds in my garden give it a miss.

Well, we had a bit of music about mushrooms and yes there is also a song about an Arbutus.

I found it in my book of Irish ballads and I also found a choir singing it on YouTube here youtube.com/watch?v=CfhZbQEfKEk (I didn't bother with a link)

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My love's an arbutus

By the borders of Lene,

So slender and shapely

In her girdle of green;

And I measure the pleasure

Of her eye's sapphire sheen,

By the blue skies that sparkle

Thro' that soft branching screen.

But tho' ruddy the berry

And snowy the flow'r,

That brighten together

The arbutus bow'r,

Perfuming and blooming

Through sunshine and show'r,

Give me her bright lips

And her laugh's pearly dower.

Alas, fruit and blossom

Shall lie dead on the lea,

And Time's jealous fingers

Dim your young charms, Machree;

But unranging, unchanging,

You'll still cling to me,

Like the ever-green leaf

To the arbutus tree.

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