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July 17, 2016

In sixth grade, we made dioramas.  I wanted mine to be the best and needed an exquisite box as the stage.  No crappy Thomas McAn box for me.  My grandfather happily donated an empty cigar box, a wooden delight with tiny brass hinges and a clasp.

I forget what the diorama scene was, but I remember being pleased with it.  I got an "A".  The teacher raved about the workmanship of the box, marveling over the tiny brass hinges and the clasp.

I let her think I was a regular ol' craftsman.  Yep, that part was all my handiwork, Teach.