Thursday, February 10, 2011

Necessity may well be called the mother of invention but calamity is the test of integrity.


Where does the obsession with pinecones begin?

Where might it end?

6 comments:

Roddy said...

Do you remember going into the bush and collecting pine cones for the fire? We did it quite often.

Kris said...

And mushrooms.

Roddy said...

I don't believe we picked the ones in the forest. They were poisonous.
The mushrooms we picked in the paddocks.
Remember we had open paddocks at the end our street in Shorewell? Then it became a through road. Retrograde step!

Sue said...

I still have a basket of pine cones collected over the years. They mean nothing to the boys now but they remind me of times past!

Kris said...

Roddy, Mushrooms are mushrooms.

Sue, can they be made into soup?

Sue said...

Nuh...rocks make the best soup!