Carnival #2 (Day 120) Look Graytail, I got her to day 120.I used to be amazed that you kept yours going into the 120 day range and beyond. I started with autos, so that makes sense. Now I'm driving my own beyond that mark as a matter of course. I feel like I finally grew up. Celebrate with me Graytail. You were the greatest part of this growth and development. I'd have been lost in the forest without you, my friend.
Sticky and sweet-smelling.She's developing her harvest scent. Just the beginning edge of it. I'm curious as to whether the men can track the development of the plants by smell the way women can. I understand women have a more finely-tuned olfactory system, and often it's the subtle aromas emitting from my charges that cue me into a developmental change.
This particular light, that I'm reluctant to go back to Advanced about again, given the less than gracious response to many of my previous communications - because this was a free light, mind you, and I'm not a paying customer - will be ancient history. Soon. So I'm smiling as I watch this light blink on and off in front of me. Its days in SweetSue land are limited.
I think of my grandparents more often these days as the 21st Century begins to stretch out before me. They were teenagers 110 years ago. I knew them as old wrinkled people who smelled funny in their dingy stuffy homes, wearing odd outdated clothing like house dresses or fedoras. They had different words for a lot of things. They had cupboards and drawers filled with usable recycled things like balls of string, rubber bands, sheets of used foil, screws and nuts and nails in jelly jars ... they kept anything reusable. They were 50 years old before they saw television. Their telephone was made of wood, a box, mounted into a cubby with a shelf, on the wall of the stairway landing, where you could sit.
You spoke into a horn on the wall and held the speaker to your ear. Fortunately, none of them had to live through the 70s and see what had happened to their society. 
In those days, it was a matter of self pride to be polite to others. Accountability and honor were traits that separated yourself from the wretched, and many of us carried that forward, in our own lives. In this century I keep seeing accountability being treated as if it were assumed to be negotiable, and honor is simply a quaint concept that identifies a person as a sap. 
My inner old guy thinks it's a pity.Carnival is looking just fine now.
I've been watching the new leaves and they seem to be much healthier, the buds are developing well and you're still not getting many dark pistils. She's hooked up nicely for now, and now, coincidentally, is a very nice time for her to be hooked up nicely. I do notice the subtle changes in scent as the plant goes through the last phases of bloom. The early aromas always seem to be lighter, thinner, more pure, and then as the pistils brown it gets thicker, usually with a funky pungent undertone. For instance, in the Carnival, the diesel will become more pronounced. I can even catch the difference as it goes into another surge of calyx building - they'll get more of the early refined aromas back, like a light oil scent, or a citrus fruity bite.
It was an old mountain dialect that's all but died out now. 
Y'all got me nostalgic tonight.
I haven't seen a member yet dissatisfied with that panel. Wait till you see the trichomes! 
. Hope it will come soon.
I've been at leisure, playing in the garden, puttering about and cooing over my charges. It looks like I'm gonna have another disappointing auto under this faltering Advanced panel. Train Wreck's at Day 34, halfway through her cycle and scheduled to come down about the same time as Carnival #2. If I get a half ounce out of the plant I'm going to consider myself lucky. Considering the fact that this light is off as often as it is, I shouldn't be surprised. I refuse to be disappointed. 
is all about. 
