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I find irony and humor useful coping mechanisms in I find irony and humor useful coping mechanisms in this weird and scary human world. So here is a story from my internal journal. You are welcome to add your own. 
Prologue, I did not do well, either socially or scholastically, in public school. This was in the 60s and 70s, and I felt like a chunk of rough quart trying to be squeezed through a narrow straw. Teachers often put me in the very back of the classroom so I wouldn’t distract the other students. (Side note, I started wearing a homemade gas mask in class to protest the Vietnam war. More on that later). 
Back to the story. I was in either 5th or 6th grade, and the teacher asked me what were some of Hawaii’s main exports (wtf?). So, I said, Puffa Puffa Rice. This was a popular Kellogg’s cereal back then that always featured a volcano. This received peals of laughter from the students but raised the teacher’s hackles. She couldn’t put me any further back in the classroom without ripping out a wall, so I stayed put, knowing once again I would have a U (Unsatisfactory) mark for behavior in my upcoming report card. Puffa Puffa Rice, indeed.
This is a favorite Comfrey (Symphytum officinale) This is a favorite Comfrey (Symphytum officinale) photo. The inflorescence of Comfrey is called a scorpioid cyme, so named, as it unfurls like a scorpion’s tail.
This is the largest Chickweed (Stellaria media, Ca This is the largest Chickweed (Stellaria media, Caryophyllaceae) patch that I’ve ever seen. And it is growing in the relatively dry region of Mormon Lake, Arizona. Has anyone here seen a larger Chickweedscape?
This is a bit sad, but not too bad. A few years ag This is a bit sad, but not too bad. A few years ago, I saw that this Honeybee had its wing impaled on a Milk thistle flowerhead at the Cornell Botanic Gardens. I slowly lifted it off the spine, and it immediately took off and started collecting nectar from a nearby flower. Busy, as they say.
I went for my annual hair trim recently with Brend I went for my annual hair trim recently with Brenda Manheim in Trumansburg, New York. Brenda was a student of mine many years ago, and we trade once or twice a year for her excellent skills and for getting my rangy hair back into shape. And of course to catch up as well. Me and my hair thank you, Brenda.
Today would be/is my dad’s 100th birthday (thank Today would be/is my dad’s 100th birthday (thank you, Ellen, for the reminder). He died about 14 years ago of brain cancer. I often miss him, especially during quiet times in the woods, and when I am cleaning up a project. He was adamant that a project is not finished until it is cleaned up. (I agree.)
This is a photo of my dad around 1944. He was a B-17 engineer on about 50 WWII flying missions. I have mentioned this before, but my dad rarely talked about WWII. He abhorred war, but with the slaughter of Jews, he felt the need to help stop the f’in Nazis. 
My father was an introspective man, not much of a talker. When I was going through tough times as a teenager and couldn’t sleep, he would sometimes take me to all-night diners. I don’t think we spoke much, but his attention spoke volumes about how much he cared. I remember one time we went to a diner and he was wearing his slippers. I was embarrassed and told him so. He said no one would notice. I don’t know if that was true, but it surely had no impact on our eating tasty greasy French fries. 
Like all of us, he had his negative side, but his legacy is of a caring, loving father.
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