The MF

#459 Culver City West

The mural shows a grandstand of colorfully attired people cheering you on even though you do plop balls down right in the middle of the court…

#467 North Hollywood Rec Center / NoHo Diner

I wondered if I should say anything to the other passengers, and decided that would make me just another crazy person yelling at the people who simply want to mind their own business and get where they’re going.

#470 Loma Alta Park, Alta Dena / El Patron

Taking in the overall state of your fellow bus passengers is similar to being a teacher in the classroom as students are filing in except that on the bus, you must also be on the alert for dangerous lunatics.

#471 Reed Park, Santa Monica / Yagul

Usually tennis balls, when they stick in the fence, are ankle to waist high. These balls were a good ten feet up there, and they had been there a while because that screaming neon green had faded to gray.

#472 – Barrington Park / Modelo

There are a lot of people walking around in America with superior attitudes that have absolutely no basis in reality, and I regret to say that especially as a doubles partner, I am one of them.

The Mushroom Farmer, Book 4, Chapter 5

Just as Yawning Tardy No Computer Kid did a good job analyzing diction in Salvage the Bones, so too is the one single dinosaur kale plant doing a good job of unfolding broad crinkly deep green leaves.

The Mushroom Farmer, Book 4, Chapter 3

It is as though an octopus has occupied the foot of the orange tree. Here is life and intelligence of a different order, all the more alive and bright for being different.

The Mushroom Farmer, Book Three, Chapter 9

The mf had plenty of opportunity to observe billowing clouds and blue-blue sky because there were no kids performing antics or sulking, and all the grown-ups were standing around dumbstruck by the emptiness.

The Mushroom Farmer, Book Three, Chapter 8

The mf was still getting used to the single sunbeam glinting off the angelic-looking woman’s short blonde hair and reflecting her calmly cheerful demeanor but not her tactfully invisible angel wings and harp.

The Mushroom Farmer, Book Three, Chapter 2

The mf thinks, “It’s okay, this will teach them that science is built on failure.” However, this is not a history of science class. It’s an ELD class, where you’re supposed to be building well-defined skills such as supporting a claim with details.

The Mushroom Farmer, Book Three, Chapter 1

You could look at the side garden as a cornucopia; you could also look at it as a mess. The mf thinks of this as versatility while also worrying if he will ever be a serious farmer. I personally think it is good for him to do a bit of worrying as a sort of vaccine.

The Mushroom Farmer, Book Two, Chapter 8

The mf held onto a one percent hope that beneath the shriveling brown strips of banana tree bark, he would find the lost city of Atlantis as represented by a thriving colony of Champagne Oyster mushrooms

The Mushroom Farmer, Book Two, Chapter 7

I can see him now, the last lingering emanations of sunset fading, faded; the mf still out in the wayback of the yard, getting repeated facefuls of chicken wing while struggling to secure the temporary coop.

The Mushroom Farmer, Book Two, Chapter 5

With Walden, the mf has abandoned his beloved practice of looking things up and simply inserts “antiquated tool, carved from wood.” Even if he understood, he wouldn’t understand.

The Mushroom Farmer, Book Two, Chapter 3

The penumbrae came upon the mf suddenly, along with immediate understanding they had been with him ever since he became alive. “That’s a prismatic lens flare,” the mf’s self-dispensing optometrist spoke into his ear. “Very much so,” observed the mf’s True Inner Self, the Standard-Bearing mf among the many varietals of personality inhabiting his brainpan.Continue reading “The Mushroom Farmer, Book Two, Chapter 3”

The Mushroom Farmer, Book 2, Chapter 1

The broccoli seedlings he had put out for the taking were all taken, and so too were the carrots, gone-gone. Somebody else in the neighborhood now had a more verdant garden. That’s a huge light-attractor for the mf, and so is the vivid orange and blue combination of the few remaining oranges at the bottom of the blue plastic bucket.

The Mushroom Farmer, Chapter 22

The mf is a birthday balloon flying away and away and away, transforming from lost toy to miracle of flight to speck in sky to nothing. Come back, mf! We need you!

The Mushroom Farmer, Chapter 18

Say this for the mf, he had spotted the bedraggled purple cauliflowers and delicately transplanted them into this spot where they were now not merely unbedraggled but also thriving, thriving, thRivNG on a cold peak COVID-19 pandemic Southern California winter morning of more clouds than sun; rain hanging in air barely mid-50 degrees Fahrenheit.

The Mushroom Farmer, Chapter 9

Maybe next time, the mf would remember to till the soil before planting. Why did he forget this time? Oh, this pandemic has people in a tizzy, even people who seem not to be in a tizzy.

The Mushroom Farmer, Chapter 6

The mf’s go-to ethical rule of thumb is that we don’t have to repair the entire world, but we have to do our part.

Is the mf doing his part?

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