Was it magic you wanted. No doubt it was looking good in that much soil. Duggan would be proud.
@SweetSue About this cob stuff. I thought there was a curing process involved here. Did I miss something?
Yes indeed there is Jim, a proper three months cure. Initially you open them once a week to let them surface dry again. When you do that you chop off a small sample to see how the process is going.
For science, you understand.
The early tastes won’t be anything akin to what you’ll get with a decent cure, but I’ve found them fun to explore nonetheless.
Hash Hound stopped today to drop off a couple indica seeds for the daughter’s garden and, as he always does, brought gifts.
A bit of Jack Herrer, some MOC White Widow, a smattering of his Gringo chemovar, and a joint of GlueBerry.
If the BIL is still speaking to me he’ll appreciate the White Widow. We smoked a bit of the GlueBerry joint and he left me the rest. Mmmmm.... that is one tasty chemovar.
Right before he got here I remember thinking “damn I’m high” and then we shared a joint. Lol!
And he brought brownies!
I sent him home with a Carnival brownie to enjoy.
Yesterday, after the Black DOG was transplanted and drenched I realized I hadn’t cut through the roots. With a fabric pot that won’t make much difference. The root structure is such that you have more rootlets than hard shell pots. Hard pots get rootbound.
At the time I started to worry and beat up on myself for overlooking something so obvious, but I’m trained to avoid that type of self-recrimination. I took the attitude that it would all work out, as things always do.
While visiting with Hash Hound I mentioned my slip-up, and his casual response and directions made me smile. After he left I got my bread knife out, plunged it close to the stem and cut out to the pot, in four directions.
Job done, and much kinder to me and the plant than doing this before dropping it into the finish pot. If I were continuing in soil this is a trick I’d remember.
This plant was transplanted from a five gallon pot that was as high as the fabric pot, making it necessary to get all the way to the bottom. My bread knife was the perfect choice.
I’m feelin’ the need to get outdoors for a spell. Catch you all later.