Garden of Eve

We met at the Baltic Room in 2009. Jack is an average-looking white dude, bald and shorter than me, but there was instant and overpowering chemistry. I would never have guessed that he had a basement full of weed. I rented out my house and moved in with him three months later. It was love at first site – for both him and the grow room. When I lost my job, I figured I could be a stay-at-home girlfriend, collect rent money, and take care of the ladies in his basement. He asked me to call dispensaries and make ‘donations’ which soon became my part-time job – working Rainier Ave and frequenting West Seattle, making connections with several dispensaries.  In 2010, the going rate was $2,800 per pound, on consignment, and usually paid in full within three weeks. I started getting the brush off from one dispensary, with a balance owing of $1,400 after 30 days. Jack doesn’t like people messing with his money, and decided to take matter into his own hands. We showed up and waited ...

There is an ugly side to the Seattle cannabis movement. There are lawsuits and name calling, and narking and threats. People from other states probably think we lavish each other congratulatory back slaps with the passage of I-502. (That, in addition to smoking the very best weed in the entire universe, of course.) But no. There are egos, agendas, paranoia and bottom lines. A few individuals are hacking their way through the movement, creating discourse and distraction. It’s shocking how ugly this side of a revolution can be. To affect change, you gotta bang on some cages and throw poop at people, I suppose. But is it really necessary? I don’t know – not my monkeys, not my circus. Maybe it’s because they’re all men! Oops, that’s supposed to be a question mark. Sorry. Well, at least I don’t  know  of any  women in the movement  calling each other dirty, pilfering cunts. I could challenge Cat Jeter to a hair pulling contest. Would that help the mov...

My friend of ten years died today. He had liver cancer, was 52 years old, and survived by a confused wife, five kids, and one grandchild. Cannabis did not save his life, because he wouldn’t try it. When he told me last year that he had liver cancer, I immediately told him about Rick Simpson Oil. I begged him … please … I don’t want to lose you.  I have access to highly-potent, tumor-killing medicine from the best medicine growers in Washington. Look at the studies! Let me show you the research! It’s here, it’s affordable, and it’s available right NOW! What have we got to lose?!? “Well, my doctors want me to follow their strict dietary guidelines, and of course chemo and radiation. Just bring me some medicated cookies and we won’t tell anyone.” So that’s what I did for nine months… I watched my dear friend wither away while sneaking him brownies and baked goods, which didn’t seem to be working. Ugh… the frustration and heartache is unbearable. Three weeks ago he aske...

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, ...

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 ...