Garden of Eve

It’s criminal that not everybody can take a stroll through a Cannabis Farmers Markets. Growers and processors display their goods, doling out free samples at every table. Walking through the MMJ Universe greenhouse this morning was like walking through heaven… billowy clouds of pot smoke fill the air.  Growers and processors display their goods, doling out free samples at every table: smiling people offering me marijuana on the right, and then on the left … “smoke this”… “dab this”… “taste this.” Heaven comes early for those can’t wait for true legalization. At the farmer’s market that I go to they have live musicians, raffles for free sample products, and when you get “hungry,” there’s a BBQ guy offering burgers and hotdogs. Local produce farmers offer traditional greens, fresh veggies and eggs. For me, it’s a one-stop-shop for the entire week! Word to the wise  -- be sure to do your shopping before you Dab. Otherwise you might overdo it a bit. To be safe, I usually

T his weekend I spent two days immersed in all things marijuana – from politics to music, the search for police-donated Doritos and the wide wide world of vaping – I didn’t just get high, I became an emblazoned advocate for our RIGHT to get high. Seattle Morning: coffee, salt air, marijuana The smell of salty sea air was overtaken by the strong scent of pot as soon as I entered Myrtle Edwards Park Friday morning as I showed up for my volunteer shift. Aaaahhh…. Good coffee, salty sea air, and fine marijuana – this is how we do mornings in Seattle. Upon orientation, I am given the Rules of  being a Volunteer at Hempfest:  Rule #1: Do not to get high while wearing your bright green Volunteer Hempfest t-shirt, or they will take it away from you. During my shift near the speakers’ entrance, I was hoping to meet all of my cannabis heroes, like Jorge Cervantes and Rick Steves. Lucky me, Stephen DeAngelo from Harborside Health Center, took time to say hello and shake my hand. He

Labors of Love I knew the two weeks leading up to  Seattle Hempfest   were going to be nuts. Looking at the calendar, I don’t remember choosing this time to 1) harvest 2) upgrade my phone 3) volunteer for Hempfest and 4) go through menopause. What a week. Harvesting went well. The all-testicle crew did a fine job trimming my incipient flowers. It’s all the work that comes after the harvest that kicks my ass — like finding a place to dump the used dirt, bleaching the walls, mopping the floors, getting ready for crop rotation.  It’s dirty, physical and hot as hell this week (which could also explain the hot flashes). But I am so incredibly thankful to the people who helped me, and I am grateful to serve others in my community. I heart cannabis! The Aftermath My stupid contract with T-Mobile finally ended so I threw my old blackberry out the window at a high rate of speed. I really disliked that it froze all the time, and had no cool apps, like my friends. Now I’

I can’t believe its harvest time already. I find it a little peculiar how many men volunteered to help this time. Maybe they thought Helen from Redneck, WY was coming back to give them a few rounds on the sit and spin. ( Triming Buds with Benefits, a Love Story. )   Sorry fellahs, it’s just me and my whip.  In previous harvests, my ex-boyfriend and an old Yugoslavian man would come through my basement and have the ladies taken down in two days. Larry started getting wise when we would conveniently “get back together” a few days prior to my harvest. Fortunately for me, he became #1 Asshole when it was time for his harvest, so my scissors stayed packed in their protective sleeve. It got to be that the cycle of my harvest was the cycle of my love life – one month on, two months off. Today I will prep for tomorrow’s crop out:   sterilize scissors and trays, find disposable gloves, wash out the trim tub, and pull large fan leaves on the first plants to come down. In the mornin