One of my favorite people in the world, and her husband, now live in California. She has always been a horticultural enthusiast, and loves gardens and plants like i love poets and poems. On the phone with her husband a few weeks ago, he is happily telling me about some fantastic reefer he is smoking on his ride home from work, and how life is good. I simply replied that I have not been in this new area long enough to have a really good reliable connection at all. In fact, I hadn’t been smoking very much. His response to this is a very kind one, “Oh man, that is horrible, we should send you a care package!”

A week ago, i get a package in the mail. It contains a box of incense, peanut butter cups, a letter, and a jar of natural peanut butter. The moment i opened the jar, the entire house was filled with the flowery and pungent bouquet of deliciously cared for marijuana. Buried in the peanut butter, completely wrapped in duct tape were two double sealed bags. As explained in the letter, there was some sour diesel, and some grand daddy purple, that my friend had grew herself. Some of the best reefer i have ever tasted. ever.

To top it off, one of my roomates who never gets high anymore, asked to smoke it last night. I stopped him after two tokes of the diesel, and he almost hit it again out of defiance to my warning. 20 minutes later he was thanking me for that.

Then this morning i received this text from him as he was at work: “I kept wondering why my bones were vibrating then i remembered past night”

In other words. Life is good right now.