I don’t remember if I mentioned this before, but I do have some experience as a gardener. When I was a freshman at Mira Costa High school, I elected to take an Agriculture class. It appealed to me out of all the electives available. The class, led by Mr. Eckert, met in a small shed-like room in the middle of the Ag plot. This was located down the hill from the football field and was quite remote, right up against the northern fence that closed off the campus. We were a strange group. I soon discovered that the main reason for attendance in this class was the fact it gave “the losers” a chance to smoke. I hadn’t picked up the nasty habit yet and was shocked to see it. I’m sure that Mr. Eckert knew what was going on, but I think he was also grateful just to have some students there; as I learned later that the class was only for “losers” and freshman. We had a vegetable garden and everything grew well in the sandy soil, but my most vivid memories of that class involved our having to plant thousands of tiny ice plants on the slope above the football field. Slave labor!
Now, did I post something like this once before? Oh, a mind is a terrible thing to lose!
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