Hot Hot Harvest

I can’t believe its harvest time already. I find it a little peculiar how many men volunteered to help this time. Maybe they thought Helen from Redneck, WY was coming back to give them a few rounds on the sit and spin. Triming Buds with Benefits, a Love Story.  Sorry fellahs, it’s just me and my whip.

C3gjiHm2S-x_tSMVlbttaRJpfgHulbfCuax8jsIiiow In previous harvests, my ex-boyfriend and an old Yugoslavian man would come through my basement and have the ladies taken down in two days. Larry started getting wise when we would conveniently “get back together” a few days prior to my harvest. Fortunately for me, he became #1 Asshole when it was time for his harvest, so my scissors stayed packed in their protective sleeve. It got to be that the cycle of my harvest was the cycle of my love life – one month on, two months off.

Today I will prep for tomorrow’s crop out:  sterilize scissors and trays, find disposable gloves, wash out the trim tub, and pull large fan leaves on the first plants to come down. In the morning, I will make sandwiches, and stock up on high energy drinks (although I may say screw it, and order pizza). Cheech & Chong will be queued on Netflix and seating will be arranged for my new, all male crew.

Now I only wish it were raining outside – it’s 87 degrees in Seattle this week. Figures!