After rain, sunshine:
tomorrow, there will be
mushrooms for breakfast
Well, no there won’t be, as I don’t know enough about them to be sure they are edible, but there must be a couple of dozen of these fine specimens in the long grass over by the fence and they do look very tempting.
The post title is because I’ve always believed that the smallest room in all the world was a mushroom – though not the kind in the picture, which look like horse mushrooms and are several inches across.
And the biggest room in all the world?
Room for improvement, of course.
I seem to remember reading the two riddles in Laurie Lee’s Cider with Rosie. Since Lee only died in 1997, I imagine his writing is all still in copyright, but the poem Home from Abroad is one of my all-time favourites. (Like every other copy of the poem I’ve found on blogs and anthology pages on-line, this seems to be a cut and paste of a version with a typo in the third stanza. The internet leaves room for improvement, indeed. Originally, it was a link to a Google Books page which didn’t have the typo, but that page seems to have got lost, so I’ve amended it. – 27/10/11.)