It’s mushroom season.

I’m not a hunter, but I know how to cook them and enjoy them.

Yesterday, my hubby brought in a haul. I knew there was no way that I could eat them all, and the gal that introduced me to them had an accident so she isn’t able to tramp through the woods this year to find them for herself. So as a bit of appreciation for introducing me to this fungi, I took a small bag of them to her, and it was like gold to a die hard hunter that can’t go out this year.

For some reason, mushroom hunters have this idea that you can drive out to the country, choose a spot along the road that can’t be seen from the owners house, hop the fence and start stealing the fungi.

Now what they don’t understand is this.

Should I go to town, and start roaming around your yard, I would be looked at as a deranged person that has not sense of right and wrong.

I really, really like roses, and I have to admit I have yard envy every time I pass Dave and Sue Gates’ house, but I have yet to stop the car, hop out and start pulling out the flowers.

However, if I live in the country, every spring I can count on people pulling up to our property and sneaking over the fence to hunt mushrooms.

They are delicious.

They are also valuable.

They are also mine.

The cost of the mushrooms my husband brought in were roughly $770 apiece.

We carry insurance in case our dog sees you and knows you don’t belong here and bites your leg.

Which if that happened, you’d probably tell the county we have a “dangerous” dog.

Do you think at this point I love mushroom hunters?

I never had an opinion until I lived in the country…

…and started paying a mortgage 5 times higher than my last one.

…and paying insurance on the property with an add on for trespassers that get hurt

…then paying the taxes for the privilege of living in Benton County

…which helps pay the officers that I call each year

…to complain about my seasonal trespassers.

Here’s a hint.

If you love mushroom hunting, buy a farm in the country.

You can turn it into a 5K. Every spring there will be people lined up at your fence line, just waiting for the sound of the fungi.

At the first pop, they charge over your fence darting around, grabbing what they can pilfer before they are caught.

The one that hauls away the most before you can catch them wins.

Their prize is measured by the pound, about $30 or more.