January 22, 2026, 17:02.
I will smoke a joint of Apple Cobbler. I opened this eighth a couple of weeks back but I haven’t written anything about it. It’s still aromatic. This is the penultimate joint, the jar is now empty, tossed away.
The joint I rolled had four-tenths of a gram of Apple Cobbler flower in it. The smoke was very tasty. I tasted lemon, dessert lemon, some sweetness in there. It’s not quite the lemon sponge cake flavor of GMO or Donny Burger but close. Related? I can’t recall the genetics off the top of my head but that’s why we have the internet. I don’t see this strain on Seedfinder or Leafly but a search indicates the genetics are Blue Moonshine x Sour Apple.
It was a $25 eighth. Some of the tastier bud I’ve smoked in weeks. I feel the effects brewing. It builds up. Behind the knees, in the calf, the left glute, my shoulders. That’s where I’m sore, and how I’m standing. Left side of left shin. I wrangled with a large downed oak for firewood, on a hillside, on a slant. It was going well until my chain hit a rock I did not see. I saw some sparks but I didn’t realize I was hitting a rock. After that the chain was dull and I proceeded to make some lousy, crooked cuts.
The Cobbler seems to be working. I want, now, to send someone a text. Adios por ein moment.
The Cobbler is pretty good. I never sent the text. Or, well—let me back up. First I sent a text to my brother. Then I sent a text to a buddy of mine. That was the person I was going to text but then I texted my brother first. As I was texting my brother, I received a text from the buddy. That link is there. It exists. It takes some time, a decade. Soup cans and string between windows.
The Communication Room. Was it in my dream yesterday or was it only a vapor I woke up huffing as I emerged from sleep into an already illuminated day?
Apple Cobbler!
The dream was post-apocalyptic in nature. There was a world-wide war. What order there exists in our society had broken down. The new order was in the form of factions. I was with a group of nomads, Berber-style. There was no home. The primary task was a never-ending search for weapons. My wife and I had somehow gotten separated. I was trying to get back to her. I had a rough idea as to where she was.
There was a scout, an independent contractor of sorts, not unfriendly, maybe an ally. He was out on the frontier sending information back to this group I was with. His last contact said he was about a day’s travel away from the group my wife was with.
The next part is a little fuzzy, and like I said, I’m not sure if it was actually part of the dream or if it was where I took the dream as I began to emerge from the unconsciousness of sleep. Maybe there isn’t much of a difference, or not a meaningful difference. Either way, I came up with the idea, with the images associated with it. There was this Communication Room where you would go in and sit at a desk. On the desk was an old-style landline phone. You could pick up this phone and talk to whoever you wanted.
How was this possible? Magic? Sheer force of will? New technology? Supernaturalism? Or was it possible only because everyone—or the two of us, me and my wife—were already dead, and we were both in the Bardo or some other stage of limbo between worlds. Or maybe we were already in our next lives, where incomprehensible things were possible because it was a different existence and who knows what else could be possible in such a new world. How could you tell, and why would it matter?
Apple Cobbler!
Yeah, the Apple Cobbler is just fine. I consider these effects to be 50/50 hybrid. Maybe 60/40 sativa-leaning. Decent carry and excellent for putting pen-to-paper. How long has it been since I lit up? What the heck time is it? Yesterday in the assisted-eating dining room at the nursing home one of the ladies was asking what time it was. She said to her lunch mate, “It’s been a long day.” The lunch mate said back very matter-of-factly, “Yes, it has been.” It was noon.
The time now is 17:56. Not quite an hour so-far for this smoke session but it’s been a strong run. I won’t say the high is fading yet. I need to check in upstairs. Arrivederci and los bienvenidos mañana.
I must say, I don’t see Blue Moonshine listed as a parent of flower strains very often. I see it listed further up many lineages, in Blue Dream, in Skywalker. The Blueberry line shows up a lot. I don’t recall seeing a lot of Sour Apple as a direct parent either. Original Diesel and Cindy 99. Heavy indica lineage on one side (Bluberry) and racy sativa on the other side (Diesel and Cindy 99). Works for me. I gotta say, too. I don’t see sister brand Rythm as prominently on the Sauget, IL menu as I used to. It’s still there but the parent company GTI seems to be offering many more strains, and some classics like Clementine and Sunset Sherbet, through this “Good Green” label. First it was through &Shine but &Shine seems to be quarters and half-ounces mostly. The Good Green jars are plastic and the nugs aren’t as nice as what comes in the Rythm glass eighth jars but I can’t argue with the taste and effects of this Apple Cobbler for $25 an eighth.
Weeds of Grass 