Chemmy Jones by In the Flow

June 12, a Monday. Back at Farm. It’s been 18 days since last I was here. Since last I wrote in this notebook. My writing life has crashed. It’ll come back, if I live long enough. I am not reading, I am not writing. I have been flooded out by rejection letters. They arrived first as a mist, a light rain. Then it was a deluge; I left for higher land.

I’ll pull the mousetraps up. I got none and nothing. Five traps, blue cheese.

It’s 7:12 and it’s foggy. Coffee doesn’t really interest me but I’ll want it later. Take the rest of the pot with me. We are in a cloud of low, thick moisture. We’re a long way from mowing weather, sings the cardinal.

*#*

Pulling up the mousetraps took fifteen minutes. Six traps. None were emptied; no stolen bait. Cleaned some traps better than the others. It was a good temp for the cheese. It was a little soft but still plenty firm.

Now a little sun. The cardinal churns its chips. Phoebe cheek call, short and sharp. Not its song.

Strain review, Chemmy Jones. I’ve got a nice mix of ink going. No vocals but the birds.

Come on, Sun!

The Chemmy Jones was tasty. I guess I taste the gas but pleasant was a minty or herbal tinge, a spice note. You don’t always get that little extra bit of flavor to make a strain stand out.

I’m not hungry, or haven’t been. I just now thought of food. I’ll have berries and a hard-boiled egg and that’ll keep me well for a while.

*#*

60—removal

80—more thoughtful removal

100—starting to think about leaving it that way; shampoo plus conditioner

120—touching off anything it can easily catch: flaking paint; knocking loose paint off but not removing paint that doesn’t want to peel

150—conditioning abrasive

180—rough smooth, the oxymoron of sandpaper grades

220—for roughing up a new, dried coat of paint before putting a second one on over it; to give the second coat a way to hang on to the first.

*#*

The sun is going to be out soon. The sky has brightened and in some places cleared.

The Chemmy Jones is a lower-speed sativa, a little less strong than the Durban Poison I had here this mow-day last time. That had me a little tweaked. This is softer like Blue Dream. But with a little more fire in the veins.

The day has grown beautiful and it’s still early. 8:37. I was up at six and I felt good. I brought only three drinks of vodka, no whiskey. Had one beer before going to sleep. Not bad, for me. For here.

I haven’t sat down yet all day. I must be antsy to mow. Slept alright, mas-o-menos. Had some wild dreams, 4-6 a.m. Some effort to get back somewhere. I’m vague. I haven’t been sleeping with my notebooks.

The sun, the sun. What makes more of a difference in our lives, when it’s around versus when it’s not?

I can’t believe it’s only 8:49.

*#*

Postscript. I bought that Chemmy Jones deli-style aka bulk at Star Buds in University City, MO. Was it only $12 a gram? Their flower prices, as have those elsewhere in MO, have gone up. $18/gram for top shelf? Ouch. The Chemmy Jones is worth $14 a gram or heck I see an eighth on the menu currently (11.15.2023) in Pacific, MO. At Verts, for $45. I’d get that. They also have it deli-style, good for them. I like In the Flow, the grower of Chemmy Jones. I like their Lemon Skunk and their Lilac Diesel as well. They make a Blue Dream but I’ve never had it. In the Flow strikes me as having a keen interest in classic strains such as the aforementioned Blue Dream but they also do a Glue and a Green Crack. I’ve had a gram of each of those; they did not leave any particular impression.

Chemmy Jones, credit to Connoiseur Genetics, is a cross between a Hindu-Kush souped up Chemdog and Casey Jones, a strain full of sour diesel with a little bit of Thai landrace and Trainwreck thrown in.

I didn’t keep the bag that said how much THC was in it. That label didn’t list terps. I’ve never bought pre-pack from In the Flow but I’m going to give them a more thorough assay.

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Smoking on it again: I am not sure how many days later this second Chemmy Jones smoke session occurred. I include the brief review below:

This stuff is solid. Smoked a small cig of it. Good smoke. Clean, smooth, nothing to report. A little taste. Earth, pine, or citrus. Not bad. Nothing extreme on the high.

Awe-some, buzzy, composed. I could be high on this, buzzing, and another person might not know I was high. I’m alert, engaged, curious, and pleasant. I’ve had a few drinks so maybe that curbs it. But, for me, Chemmy Jones and a few light cocktails and I’m content, even happy. Well,—