4.27.2025
It’s time to try the strain Grandi Guava. All Gelato.
A bit of that rubber taste; pepper, earth…
… I got some work done. Typing, listening to the Blue Jays game. Dehumidifier running, like it has been all year, seems like it.
I can focus. Not stoned. Even keel. Able to edit; process. Inhibitions lowered, plow ahead.
It is interesting that while the Gelato strain is usually considered indica-leaning, this Grandi Guava—which is basically two Gelato phenos crossed with one another—results in a plant with sativa traits. That’s how Revolution labeled the flower, anyway. Tales & Travels is Revolution’s, what? Budget brand?
How does a cross of two indica strains lead to a sativa? Is it the result of two recessive traits being expressed in the cross? I did work for a while tutoring genetics in college. If Gelato is Xy crossed with Xy, the Grandi Guava is a cross resulting in yy traits.
Or maybe that’s unnecessary to explain the strain because I’ve always felt sativa effects from Gelato and other Sherb offspring anyway. Sunset Sherbet. Anytime it’s a parent I get a rush, feel some euphoria, get that bite, sometimes some paranoia. The whole gamut. Sherbs shine through, that seed is strong.
It’s another gray day in what has been a wet April in the St. Louis area. Very little “open window weather” this month. This is Weeds of Grass. Part weed blog, part weather almanac, part historical record. I write to remember.
What is a device that gauges humidity called?
Hygrometer. I need a bunch!
Yes, the Grandi Guava has had a gentle caffeine effect. I’m liking it so far. Could go for another. I pulled Whitman off the shelf and read a little. Toward the very end of Leaves of Grass. It’s like Revelations, if the book is thought of as Whitman’s Bible. The poems are shorter, celebratory, contemplative of The End, or whatever is next. Those final poems are Whitman paying his tributes, to the people and to the Earth.
4.29.2025
Time to burn, let’s Grandi Guava—
More rain, thunder, April adds rain on top of more rain.
The worst storm of the spring was in March, mid-March, that wind. April has been frequent rain, cloud cover, persistent moisture. But also an incredible stream of birds, a panoply. Rose Breasted Grosbeaks, Wood Thrushes, and Tennessee Warblers. The Grosbeaks visit the feeders. The Thrushes and Warblers are unseen but identifiable by sound with the help of the Merlin bird app.
The Grandi Guava has electrified me; got me buzzing. Flavor… menthol, maybe some creaminess, a little fruit. The joint burned clean through without any relighting. It was raining. I was under cover but it’s so damp. A dreary April! Humid. The most humid April I can remember. Dehumidifiers running nonstop. A natural history of the indoors.
I stepped out to take some photos to go along with this post but I went out there and didn’t take any. It’s 14:53. I don’t know when I wrote the first part of this. Three hours ago? At least two hours ago. Which is to say: The Grandi Guava is good fuel. I have been on my feet, working, doing.
I put a clay and rock “plug” in along one spot of our foundation, on the back patio. That was two hours ago. Rain, standing rain, water. It’s an area I’ve been addressing, trying to get to drain better, and not toward the house.
Guava is Gelato pheno #25. I can’t recall seeing Guava as a solo strain. Not like Gelato #33 (aka Larry Bird) or the most common pheno, Gelato #41, sometimes called Bacio Gelato. If you see Gelato on a menu simply called Gelato, it’s probably Gelato #41.
I am at my desk now. I cleaned all of the Gutter Guards of any debris. I’m wondering whether those gutter guards do more harm than good. The heavy downpours run right off, right over them. Not enough water actually seems to be going into the darn gutters.
15:05. The Grandi Guava is a three-hour smoke.
15:43. Darn it. I went out again but I didn’t get any photos. I heard birds. Blackpoll Warbler is a new one on me. The Tennessee Warblers are very vocal, their song is witchy choppy brassy with a scissor-finish. Chit-chit-chit-chit-scissor-ee-scissor-ee-scissor-ee. I’ve heard them before at this time of year before, not just in the woods. They are a fairly common migrator around any spot that has some big trees during the spring migration.
The Guava is still there but this is the ninth inning. Quite a run. A mostly dreary, rainy day but I never thought about a nap. Too much to do, to try. It’s a curious, endeavorous high. I walked out to the mailbox, up the big hill. That had me huffing and puffing. I’m in decent shape; I can run four miles, no problem, two or three times a week but that hill always gets me, especially after a smoke and a few drinks.
I’ll re-up. With what? I’ve had Gelato varieties going. Maybe I need to mix it up. Now I hear an Indigo Bunting…
Weeds of Grass 