Over three years I jotted down notable memories of my life growing “pot.”   I have organized these memories into a series of 20 sequential stories I still find both entertaining and somewhat unsettling.  I am releasing these as each gets into publishable form.

  • How I started my life with bud (2/1/2013) - In Oregon my wife and I had finally found  our little dream farm with a red barn.  Our dream came as a five year project — whose process we told ourselves we were enjoying . .   sort of . .  most of the time. Then, at about year three my hands gave out — not in our plan.  Fortuitously ...
  • My secret connections (3/11/2013) - My first efforts. Getting into “bud” is a most circuitous trail: dubious legality mixed with big cash money.  Consequently, no one speaks unless you have cash and they’re sure you won’t turn them in.   My first problems:  I look a lot like an FBI agent in farmer’s disguise, I am direct.  “I just want some good bud cream for my hands.”  I started ...
  • A very expensive “cookie” (4/21/2013) - Another of my other faults is a lack of perception into some people which, when mixed with unerring trust, is, as my wife says, my deadly combination! Remember the little counselor with a tick, the same one who gave me the teddy-bear card.  Well, compared to others I had met he seemed rather friendly and normal.  Had to start somewhere. ...
adminMy life with bud