Qwiz

It's a long story... Think about it, how many plants do you know of in your garden that have male and female plants?

Post # 92 will explain the flowering part of the process. Male plants will be killed in August. I estimate harvest night to be during Green Bay’s Monday Night Football home game in October. The moment John Madden mentions the word frost, think of me, that’s when we harvest. The curing process will take another 3 to 4 weeks before it’s considered ready to smoke.
Stay with me for this year’s grow and I’ll describe it all.
Qwiz

Supergirl

I am going to try your recipe this w/end. Will report back on Monday

Qwiz

If you find that you need more liquid in it when cooking, you can use water and then place the concoction in the fridge to cool and that will separate the butter from the water. Just in case you have more bud than butter.
Let us know how you made out.
Good luck
Qwiz

Qwiz

Here's another link for the pic of the plants.


We decided to wait a week or two to plant them. We were expecting some bad weather and torrential rains. We will try again this weekend if the Fill The Hill protest march doesn’t interfere with our plans. I’m going to the Fill The Hill protest march and smoke a joint or two on Parliament Hill June 5th 2004.
http://www.fillthehill.ca/fillthehill_banner2.gif
I purchased my ticket for the 40passenger limo at one of the local head shops for the trip to the Hill. Should be a fun time to be on a pot smoking bus for the long journey there and back. I’ll let you know what it was like when I get back.
Qwiz

Qwiz

I love this Country… I really, really do. I ran into this site.
I thought you would appreciate it. Watch Fill the Hill Live!
Yes Live!!! Live video of the event! Commercial free!!!

Be here Saturday, June 5th 1pmEST to see Fill The Hill.
The circle in the foreground is the eternal flame.
I’ll be standing behind it at 12:30EST on Saturday June 5th.
The Hill Cam It’s nice to see that my tax dollars are going to something useful.
Beauty eh?
Qwiz

Qwiz

I had a great time taking part in my first Honourable Act of Civil Disobedience. The bus ride was a blast with great people on the bus. We had one of everything. The driver was cool, he had a smoking section, everything but the first three rows. I got a chance to participate in the best 4:20am bus smoke out in my life. I now know what a hot box is.

Here are a couple of the highlights for me.
Rolled and smoked a joint on Parliament Hill by myself. Smoked a joint at another location. I heard some great Speakers. I saw people of every kind and then some. Smoked several joints on the lawn and celebrated 4:20 on Parliament Hill. You think we could get a single bong on that big clock at 4:20? Guess not yet. The thing must ring like four times an hour and never once at 4:20.
Qwiz

Qwiz

We have seen from they who came before us, those many who were discriminated against and overcame the odds. We have witnessed some courageous acts of nonviolent civil disobedience in the last century that has effected tremendous positive change for humanity. There have been some Great Leaders to show us the way. Is our cause in the same class? I would have said no if you asked when boarding that bus ride to Ottawa. I would have been wrong ‘cause at midnight when we left I had no idea I boarded the bus to freedom. Like many in history who committed their own nonviolent protests, this one too started with a bus ride and a dream. The bus was like Noah’s Arc, but only we had one of everything represented it seemed, a good cross section of decent and giving individuals, all going to speak up for their own reasons. Our destination was Parliament Hill 4:20

The bus had a smoking section, which was everything but, the first 3 rows of the bus. The folks were generous with the passing of the joints, pipes and bongs. It wasn’t very long before your next hit from a new friend. Not much drinking going on, a few beers but that’s to be expected for the ride. We were there for the smoke, where not all drinkers, we’re all pot heads.

4:20am on the bus was a sight to see! Everyone with something good to smoke. It was going to be a hot box, so I was told. No windows open on the bus and the only thing burning is weed. I’m in! We hear a plea it’s getting a little cold in the back of the bus. “Put the windows up please?�? The word is passed person-to-person, windows up, we’re getting close to 4:20. The windows go up and there's a flurry of activity, everyone reaching for their stash or perhaps that first ceremonial offering, rolled earlier in the day. No countdown or fanfare but pretty much in unison, the passengers’ spark up, a buzz came over the crowd. I’ve seen a purple haze or two in my day but nothing like that.

Yes, it was my first official hot box. There were no windows open and therefore the cloud just hung in the air, wafting. I enjoyed my rocket and finished it. I take a good look around and admired the aroma of the bus. The bus seemed like a giant bong, with the smoke slowly being sucked out of the driver’s only open widow.

The bus in front of us seemed to pull away, put more distance between us. We were slowing down a little and occasionally we would drift slightly in the lane only to kiss the rumble strip that lined the shoulder. I could only think of the Senate Committee’s findings on the effects of cannabis and driving. No doubt the passengers were aware of the report and we knew what caused the slowdown and added a slight weave to the now more cautious trip. We could only chuckle sheepishly for we knew what we had done. We wouldn’t be keeping up with the first bus for now but after a little time, when the smoke cleared, we caught up to them and were back in the familiar spot behind them.
I may have been on a bus but I was flying all the way to Ottawa.

Driving into the sunrise was something spectacular. An artist sitting a couple of rows in front of me had been sketching in the darkness. The morning light revealed the perfect image of what I had been watching all night, the tail end of the first bus.



I got to the Hill early so I could do my customary walk around. Queen Victoria is my first stop, a favourite place, it’s quiet and there’s a great view. Under a tree I see an all too familiar picnic table. I’ve seen that rickety old table at every campground I’ve ever rolled a joint at. It was calm and quiet and I decided to sit down and roll a joint. I took out my kit and spun me a rocket, cleaned up and headed for the bench in the shade of the tree.

Looking at the monument I sat there and contemplated whether this was the right thing to do. I paused and looked down only to see 2 roaches. I take it as a good sign and spark it up.

The National War Memorial is another must see when I’m in town. I like to make the effort to pay my respects at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The bronze men on the memorial are amazing and seem to come to life, when you look each of them in the eye as you move to the relative area to make the connection. There’s an inviting shady grass area that I go to crash for a while. It’s not long before I fired up another rocket on the road to freedom.
National War Memorial just before noon.


Smoking a J in the shade at the National War Memorial



12:30 I pay a visit to the Eternal Flame. I didn’t use it to get a light though.

1:PM I grab a spot on the lawn close enough to see and hear it all. The Peace Tower rings in one o’clock, it’s official, we’ve made it, time to spark up on the lawn of Parliament Hill. There’s a little delay in the starting of the Official Proceedings, which is understandable for us potheads. I’m asked when it will start. I can only think in terms of a Jamaican time frame for today. “Soon come mon…�? I say as I raise my J in celebration.

A University Student or Research Assistant takes advantage of the few moments of quiet time to perform a little research. She’s about five eight, thin, her shoulder length sandy blond hair is pulled back and up and she had some kind of credentials hanging around her neck. I didn’t get a look at them. She wore a brown dress shirt and dark brown knee length skirt. She had a handheld recording device with a microphone and attempted to record the coughs of pot smokers. She walks through the people patch, looking for someone to take a large draw and then she would scurry over in an attempt to register the potential hack. It became a game to pass the time. She stayed for the initial flurry but when the first joints turned to roaches, she realized we had been playing keep-away all along. The group of strangers had a good chuckle when she left. Granted, I’m not afraid of research or the truth. But here and now, are you kidding me?

Honestly, does she have any idea how she looked and acted? After a quick study I remarked to a few from my generation, that we had all seen her before but it was in black & white. I asked them if they saw what she looked like and what she was wearing and they said “yes, a brown shirt!�? She reminded me of someone who worked for the Gestapo.


4:20 at Parliament Hill


Fill The Hill, Canada’s smoke fest protest. June 5th, 2004. I want to thank all who organized this for giving me my first taste of freedom. I was proud to take part in my first Honourable Act of Civil Disobedience.
Qwiz

EverLastingGodStopper

Well, Qwiz, aren't you quite the activist? Good for you. I hope that Canada and the USA eventually end the prohibition of marijuana.

I just Googled for a Willie Nelson quote about pot just being "plants and flowers," and I was sort of surprised by the religious reference. I still smiled, though, and here it is:
I remembered (some of) that line from one of the books I have here on the topic. I apparently forgot the God part! But it sure is a great concept to share with our theocratic leaders who are so, well, hell-bent on legislating their religion as the law of the land.

Qwiz

Thank you so much EverLasting for the quote. I’ll add that to my repertoire and get some use out of it in the future. I like Willie and I respect the good he does for the farmers and others.

As for the activist, I would agree but I have my own approach as I try to enlighten the older generation of my family. They are all great debaters and for the most part have an open mind. Over the last few years I have decided to not shy away from the subject when it’s brought up. A few years ago they asked me if I ever smoked it. I told them I would never lie to them and said of course I did. I was the first person they ever knew that had ever smoked it. All the other members of the family had lied to them in the past.

The debates in Parliament, have given me the opportunity to explore the subject with them. I see them softening in their views when they know I smoke and I’ve not been overtaken by the “Reefer Madness�? that they expected out of all pot smokers. They find it hard to believe that they have been lied to for this long and I have seen a change in their attitude. They know me well of course and respect my views and know that this is a cause I believe in. They have no idea how much I’m involved though, nor are they ready for that yet. Funny thing is that they are avid gardeners as well. If they only knew that my gardening consisted of more than tomatoes and begonias, which I use as a cover when I’m starting my flowers indoors.
Qwiz

Qwiz

The grow spot...

Under the cover of darkness I packed up the car with everything I needed to get the job done. I loaded my backpack along with the shovel and the plants and went to pick up my grow partner who lives fairly close to me. The pots were in the back seat on the floor and were reasonably well concealed. I drove down one of the lesser traveled through streets and saw a police cruiser with his flashing lights in the distance. I had no idea what he was there for nor did I want to find out. I pulled into a small plaza and decided to go the long way to my grow partners home. The grow spot is not far from his home and there are no major intersections to cross getting to the grow spot in the picture above.

It was dark and there was a light rain falling, which I consider to be perfect transplant conditions. The overcast sky will help make the night just that much darker and the light rain will keep people indoors while we do our thing.

He dropped me off quietly at the spot and we had the vehicle set up so the interior light wouldn’t come on when I opened the door. I grabbed my backpack with all the necessary supplies, plus my hole-digging shovel with a rope tied to it so it could be slung over my shoulder to keep my hands free for the pots and the flashlight. My partner goes for a long slow cruise around the back roads while I make the night trek to the spot. The light rain that was falling was rather refreshing and helped keep the bugs to a minimum.

The first obstacle is the STEEP embankment I must go down without breaking my neck to get to the valley. Though I had my hands full with the plants in the large pots they were light enough due to a lack of watering so as not to be a burden. Still, I managed to make use of the flashlight with a red light, that gave me just enough light to see where I was going without alerting anyone to my presence. The vegetation consists of thick growth that was over three feet tall. This helped me to keep my footing as I descended carefully to the fence at the base of the embankment.

The farmer’s fence is about 5 and a half, feet high. Luckily there is a hole big enough at the bottom for me to squeeze through. I set the plants down, took off my backpack and shovel and slipped them both through the hole to the other side. I look back and my plants are gone! They have been swallowed up in the sea of green vegetation. They were right there but I’ll be damned if I could spot them, I must have spent 5 minutes looking for them. I looked ever so carefully, constantly afraid that I would find them by stepping on them. After some time I located them and slipped them gingerly through the hole in the fence and then slipped through myself in true guerrilla gardener style…
Qwiz