Going for the Green

We first saw the plants while picking grapes. Jock spotted them from his perch up on the wagon- a nice little crop in someone's backyard. No idea what strain, but yeah, marijuana. Illegal, so up for grabs, to a certain line of thinking... But not ready yet. And we had some.

A month or so later, we had moved on to another grape farm, further down the River Murray. A couple hundred kilometers away down the straightest, flattest, most boring stretch of highway ever. Hard to keep your eyes open, in the middle of the night, even with company.

Yet there we were in the wee hours of a sultry summer night, fresh out of weed, driving for two hours (each way) with a couple we'd just met on the new farm, having said "Hey, we know where there's pot!"

We kept the giggling hushed as we ran through the field, trying to remember exactly where the yard with the precious plants had been. Finally found it. The guys jumped the fence, snipped a few ends, and away we went to hang by the river, listen to tunes, and roll one up.

Of course it wasn't ready, but we were.