14 September 2010

Today while out for a walk in the forest with my good friend L, I got taken short by a sudden need to crap. L said she would walk on ahead, to give me privacy. She gave me a kleenex she had in her pocket and offered to relieve me of my camera. I thanked her, and she moved on, whistling, because she is afraid of being mistaken for a deer and shot by a hunter. But also, I felt, showing an exaggerated I'm-not-looking-back insouciance, intended to reassure me that my crapping would not be observed. 

Lots of lovely mushrooms. We had already found some Hydnum repandum, and I had gathered a few orange boletus. Despite previously voiced misgivings about associating turds and mushrooms, I decided to include these last in the photo. They are so photogenic. And my turd was rather ordinary, though voluminous, and very imperative. I felt a lot better after it was evacuated. It was like having a baby.

After I rejoined L we discussed crapping. Was being constipated worse than having the runs? (Yes, said L, who suffers quite a lot from the first.) We also discussed the way one can become obssessed with "regularity", as one ages. And how nice it feels, to have a big crap out of one's body, no longer clogging up one's system... I considered telling her about my My Beautiful Turds blog, but decided that she wasn't ready.

Or perhaps it is me who is not ready. I wonder if anybody will be ready, ever...