Radogast 2016 - The Neverending Growing

SweetSue said:
That could be an interesting cross Rad. I've never tried AK-47, but I do like White Widow.
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We purchased the AK47 after trying it several times. (It is a teen favorite in the area.) A zippy, get stuff done high.
Fresh out of the drying area, she slaps you in the forehead when you inhale, like you just got a head-butt from a bee. In a few seconds you get all talky and full of ideas. She really likes a 2 month minimum cure to develop flavor and subtlety.

I wish I liked my version of white widow better, because I'm going to have 6 crosses with it !
 
Graytail said:
I believe that deserves a full-throated ~ w00t!~ :partyboy::yahoo:
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Thanks. :yahoo:


Tead said:
I'm so friggin jealous! A basement would be wonderful for about 1billion different reasons in a hot ass world. Unfortunately, they don't build basements in the swamplands.
Happy you found a house that fits your growing needs so well. I'll assume it's a good fit for living in as well.
My home is well over 100yrs old as well. When I was doing some siding replacement, I discovered round cypress logs holding up the corners of the house. I replaced about 1/2 the studs, but those cypress logs were in great shape.
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They build basements in the swamplands of New England. We had a dry one here as the basement sits on a rock surrounded by water. I suspect they had to dynamite to put the basement in. A basement in New Orleans seems like an invitation to breed something found in a horror movie. I love the 50-something temperatures of a basement.

This house is a named historical house kept in the original family for the first 99 years - as the neighborhood went way down. About 15 years ago the city started making loans to encourage homeowner gentrification and reclaim their original neighborhood of Belle Dames from rentals, neglect, and literal collapse. The neighborhood has been slowly crawling into a better place with a very strong neighborhood association hosting annual events that draws hundreds. Half the streets are safe and beautiful. Our new house is firmly is the safe and beautiful half. Easy (safe!) walk or drive to downtown bars, restaurants and events (big crowd parking lots are 3 blocks away.) Stately victorian houses on tree lined streets. It is more house than we need, with more gorgeous woodwork and windows than I ever expected to own, at a price lower than expected. A dream house that isn't a money pit (hard to find that in your neck of the woods.)

It's going to be a little hard to fit my wife's NOLA courtyard garden dream into an open, sunny back yard - but we'll find a way :)

I'm going to need more arbors and plants. In the basement, I'll be growing lots of cuttings and seeds taken from neighborhood plants :)
 
Thanks for all the congratulations and best wishes. It was a bit of a roller coaster ride today as I uncovered 2 things the buyer's house inspector did to the house to make things look bad. I am disgusted by millenials and their sense of entitlement, disgusted by massholes and their sense of inherited privilege, and triply disgusted by incompetent 'professionals' who are all 3.

I'll be fine. AA members 'turn it over to a higher power.' I turned it over to a spirit who said 'leave it to me.' I suspect they will wish it were just a 'higher power' on their ass.

Do I sound livid? or just insane?

Brats are coming off the grill. Harvests might happen tomorrow. Life is good :)
 
Tead said:
I'm so friggin jealous! A basement would be wonderful for about 1billion different reasons in a hot ass world. Unfortunately, they don't build basements in the swamplands.
Happy you found a house that fits your growing needs so well. [I'll assume it's a good fit for living in as well./COLOR]
My home is well over 100yrs old as well. When I was doing some siding replacement, I discovered round cypress logs holding up the corners of the house. I replaced about 1/2 the studs, but those cypress logs were in great shape.
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You think like a cultivator. :laughtwo:

Excellent news Rad! :woohoo: on the basement rooms. Like the house was waiting for you. :battingeyelashes:

The building I live in was built in 1909. Original woodwork and original plaster, but lowered ceilings because that plaster didn't hold on the ceilings when the building fell into disrepair. The size of the rooms though is enviable, given the way they build now.
 
I harvested breeder seed Lachesis, Hawaiian Skunk 'Flower' and Caramelicious Latrice Royale today.

The seeds are abundant ! Airy buds with very low yield - I'm not even bothering to weigh them.

Latrice Royale was the most work - a 4 oz sized plant with about an ounce of seed laden popcorn. She took longer to trim than a sensemilla the same size with much less reward.


Half of Hawaiian Skunk flower with half of her seed output.

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The final four will be harvested this week. I may just throw one away rather than trim up for 1 gram in a bowl.
 
Midway through trimming Latrice Royale, I offered to drive a party of 2 to a local farm for homemade ice cream. As we were driving there, I asked if I should stay in the car because my fingers must stink after trimming for over an hour. I was told noone would notice in our little town.

There were 8 lines over 6 people deep at the ice cream stand. The 3 of us talked until we got to second in line and one of our party says "Brush off your shirt!" I looked down to see 15 or 20 leaf tips stuck to my shirt. :oops: I brushed them off. :loopy:

No one said a thing more, and I managed to efficiently place a takeout order for my wife and I; "2 large cups, 1 Black Raspberry, 1 Purple cow, with lids if you have them." I had rehearsed the line in my head several times because I was quite high.

On the way back to the car I dropped the Purple Cow but the lid saved it. None of the patrons seemed to notice, they were too busy choosing the 3 flavors for their 6 scoop bananna split.
 
LOL! Fun!

I like to get groceries when I reek of trimming. :cheesygrinsmiley: Do they think the old guy smelled like freshly trimmed pot?

Why do they know what freshly trimmed pot smells like? :laugh:

I should be more circumspect, I suppose ...

*snork*


[Edit] I hope you don't mind, but that reminded me of a great story ...

My father in law was a WWII vet, son of an immigrant, self-employed tailor, who invested well and rode the 70s real estate market and retired to Florida in time to ride that one too. :cheesygrinsmiley: A simple disciplined man of that era, even if his kids weren't. He was the sort to be quietly disgusted and turn away from people whose behavior he didn't respect. Well, ahem, the first time I met him I headed over to my future wife's place not knowing they'd be there. So I get there, she calls out to come in and there her parents are at the kitchen table. At that time they were in their early 60s, nice pleasant people. :cheesygrinsmiley: Mom is chatty, Dad is quiet, typical introductory conversation. After about 10-15 minutes, I happen to glance down at my shirt front and I see that there's about an inch of an ounce baggy sticking out of the top of my shirt pocket. Uh ... forgot about that. :cheesygrinsmiley:

So it's been 10-15 minutes ... I'm distracted by the baggy ... some sort of conversation is going on ... I glance over at him ... he returns my glance ... our eyes meet ... I look away ... still have no clue ... I can hear my heart beating, the murmur of the conversation ... ack?

But nothing was ever said, I have no idea if he saw it, and later it became clear that yes, like most of his kids I smoked pot too. He never liked it or accepted it but he tolerated the fact.

A rather unique way to meet yer father in law, eh? :laugh:
 
So... I had an acquaintance from the Boston area. He was a very educated young man. PHD virologist that couldn't find a fancy virus related job, so was pursuing an MD (student loans from hell!!!). All in all a respectable kinda guy.
He has Mass plates on his car and I once witnessed him react to being called a "masshole". His reaction was way out of character and almost violent. I thought he was going to start a fist fight in the street. Fortunately the name caller moved on.
The reaction was so out of character that I never really queried him about the event or the insult.

Is "masshole" some sort of extra special insult?
Please pardon my ignorance on the subject.
 
I always trim first thing in the morning...I mean EARLY, like 4a.m. So, after the first hour or so, I'm jonesing for a red bull and boogie down to the closest convenience store and of course I straight-up reek. But I know them all and they usually just grin, chuckle and hope other patrons come in to see their reactions. I don't say much (I'm already eye-fucking my 20 oz red bull), score a last minute lotto ticket and back to the trimming grind.

Kind of ritualistic...too funny. :cool:
 
Tead said:
So... I had an acquaintance from the Boston area. He was a very educated young man. PHD virologist that couldn't find a fancy virus related job, so was pursuing an MD (student loans from hell!!!). All in all a respectable kinda guy.
He has Mass plates on his car and I once witnessed him react to being called a "masshole". His reaction was way out of character and almost violent. I thought he was going to start a fist fight in the street. Fortunately the name caller moved on.
The reaction was so out of character that I never really queried him about the event or the insult.

Is "masshole" some sort of extra special insult?
Please pardon my ignorance on the subject.
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"Masshole" is one of those words you have to live with long enough to really appreciate it. After you have lived in New England a few years it becomes glaringly obvious that almost every Massachusetts native that went to college is, under the surface, a version of Thurston Howell the third or his wife "Lovey." They truly believe that being born in the same state as the Kennedy's lived gives them the inalienable privilege of being superior to every living human being, They grow up on an education of 'firsts' (our little town claims at least 5 'firsts' in the nation,) that makes they believe they are Boston Brahmins
And this is good old Boston,: The home of the bean and the cod,: Where the Lowells talk only to Cabots,: And the Cabots talk only to God.
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And they behave like Brahmins... not only the snooty aristocracy of India, but the cows of India that wander into traffic (literally) believing that anyone who dared to hit them will be prosecuted for murder - and I mean that. The average Bostonian believes that it is nearly impossible to buy a handgun in the state (not true) and that a jaywalking pedestrian hit by a caf will be revenged by public and govermental wrath. --- In my household, a 'masshole' is an educated idiot: A posing bundle of attitude with their nose high in the air, yet as dumb as a domestic turkey that drowns when it rains.

The meaning shifts between people, but there seems to be a consensus that if one calls you a masshole they have seen through your shit and it does indeed stink. Being accused of normal smelling shit seems to be a dire insult to massholes.

/rant off

I answered, because, you know, you asked :)
Go Red Sox !!!!
You know the Red Sox are so lame that when they abandoned their first ballpark(now in Northeastern University) and they hosted the 1915 World Series games they had to borrow from the Boston(Milwaukee) Braves a larger stadium (now in Boston University) a few blocks from Fenway(swamp road) Park. Alongside Boston winning the first ever World Series and being the only team to scare the New York Yankees into not competing in the World Series, A Red Sox fan will probably claim that as another Boston 'First.' :rofl:

I love the history of Boston (Edgar Allen Poe wading in Frog Pond - Paul Revere riding along the road where I used to live) but these folks can't seem to gather that what their ancestors did doesn't make them special, and what their ancestors did in places like Salem Village was just plain evil so they should stop trying to accuse each other of dumb shit that they didn't do. Instead of recognizing the stupidity and lies of Thoreau and Emerson (alongside their worthy accomplishments) they build parks to celebrate their deceits (Walden Pond) and historical museums to their masshole arrogant failures (Fruitlands.)

/rant really off this time.
 
That was one of the best rants I've read here Rad. Learned a lot. I'm glad you're moving. :laughtwo:
 
Ok, I have to share my story. You all know I tend to stay high constantly because..... why not? But I head out the door not even thinking about what I smell like or how red my eyes are, and the kid who works at the Dollar General across the street is always laughing at me buying Brownie mix and humming away with the music on the earbuds, totally oblivious to what's going on around me.

They tolerate me well here. We used to run the local tattoo studio. They expect me to be high all the time. Boy, I really don't fit the social norm at all, do I? :laughtwo:

My daughter and her partner tell me the apartment reeks of cannabis, and fairly often so do I. I don't smell it at all. Lol!
 
Sue,

I only smoke a couple of times a month, but I'm sure I reek from touching trichomes on a regular basis.

I look and act like a stoner, but almost noone knows who I am - yet somehow the folks who know me include, the chairman of the town selectmen (de facto mayor,) the minister of the Unitarian Church, the editor of the newspaper, the chief of police, and the uber wealthy founder of our local museums. So when they say hello or nod, all the locals twitter and wonder who I am. The only other folks who seem to recognize me are the grocery store clerks, ladies at the bank, and restaraunt delivery men. I rarely leave the property :)
 
Radogast said:
Sue,

I only smoke a couple of times a month, but I'm sure I reek from touching trichomes on a regular basis.

I look and act like a stoner, but almost noone knows who I am - yet somehow the folks who know me include, the chairman of the town selectmen (de facto mayor,) the minister of the Unitarian Church, the editor of the newspaper, the chief of police, and the uber wealthy founder of our local museums. So when they say hello or nod, all the locals twitter and wonder who I am. The only other folks who seem to recognize me are the grocery store clerks, ladies at the bank, and restaraunt delivery men. I rarely leave the property :)
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It's always fascinated me that you do the growing, but everyone else does the smoking. Oh! Smoking! I forgot I get to take a hit now. :woohoo:
 
Thanks for the words of explanation. I'd run across the insult a few times and was always intrigued by it.
We have some significant stratification down south as well.
When 2 New Orleanians meet for the first time they will inevitably raise one universal question... "What school did you go to?".
They're not talking about college... they're asking what private high school each other attended.
The question has zero to do with education and is completely a query about each others place on the social ladder.
So strange and childish.
Being a stranger dumped into the NOLA social soup has been an interesting experience. Disgusting... but interesting none the less.
 
Tead said:
Thanks for the words of explanation. I'd run across the insult a few times and was always intrigued by it.
We have some significant stratification down south as well.
When 2 New Orleanians meet for the first time they will inevitably raise one universal question... "What school did you go to?".
They're not talking about college... they're asking what private high school each other attended.
The question has zero to do with education and is completely a query about each others place on the social ladder.
So strange and childish.
Being a stranger dumped into the NOLA social soup has been an interesting experience. Disgusting... but interesting none the less.
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Don't forget the ever popular "Southernism"....."Where do you go to Church?".....and all the connotations connected to an incorrect answer.
 
I did get to see mardi gras in Metairie
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I'd leave too if my only exposure to the scene was a Metairie Mardi Gras.
One has to drink the wine a bit to discover a reason to stay.
For me, it was Tango dancers at the Cafe Brazil on Frenchman. Every weekend about 40 or 50 dancers would descend upon the club. Freddy Omar would be pumping out some awesome Latin music on stage. The dancers would be spinning each other and flying thru the air in truly spectacular fashion.
It was just on of many different 'wines' that contributed to the general inebriation that allowed me to stay.
 
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