2.2.2026, 18:04
I smoked a joint of Clementine an hour and a half ago, roughly. There was some marshmallow-y fruit flavor. It didn’t taste the way it smelled—there was no tang in the taste. The joint burned well. I smoked it down.
I’ve been sitting for the last forty minutes but I was bouncing around before that, keying in on a couple small tasks to do. Measuring a latch that needs replacing. Applying electrical tape to a busted bulb holder on a string of outdoor holiday lights that I have left up, for the time being.
Then I did some copy editing of a couple prior posts on this blog. I haven’t been diligent about proofreading and copy-editing some of these posts, a bad habit into which I’ve lapsed.
That’s all to say I found some focused pep in the Clementine, certainly at the outset. Even having the steadiness, the focused momentum to sit down and edit was nice. A coffee sort of effect/result without the caffeine edginess. As I was tinkering with that busted latch for a sliding door, I felt a buzz but a manageable one. I’d call Clementine one of the “gentle” sativas. 18:12.
2.12.2026, 15:09
It’s time to blaze!
How about some Clementine? It’s Clementine time.
16:52. I did smoke some Clementine. Fifteen minutes ago. Tasty. Spicy. Not overly so. 60 percent on the tasty side, maybe 65.
There is a definite effect, something to build on. A wren calling outside the screen door sounds like it is “in here.” I’ve got Chaos in the CBD on the stereo. Not loud. The song is “Midnight in Peckham.” Would you call this acid jazz? Jazz house? 2014 jazzy house in this house, the wrens out there playing the ratchet. 16:59.
Dateline Farm—2.26.2026, 15:12
Smoked a bowl of Clementine…
Favonian breezes…
Sixty-three degrees, 35% relative humidity. Just about stepped through the kitchen floor…
The Clementine has never really “gripped me.” Mimosa is a better rendition. It’s a light version of what I’m looking for. I’ve had approximately five ounces of tequila. Basically, a margarita at a place that has “the best margaritas.”
There is some alcohol muting the effect of the cannabis but I maintain that the Clementine is not a strong strain. I won’t smoke anything else until a full hour’s gone by. Current song is Wild Pink’s “Florida.” It’s a long song, just over nine minutes.
I had Spring Training baseball on earlier but this time of day, this breeze, some booze, and a little weed—I want music.
The cattle are visible from the house. They sometimes are, this time of day. More often in the morning. They’re here for the light, and for the view of the road. 15:41.
The Clementine feels like a half-smoke. I had plenty of grass in that bowl, a deep bowl. My joints are roughly .4g these days. In that bowl, I packed probably .3g but it burns slower, and more evenly. The joints burn more when I’m not taking drags off of them than a bowl burns when I’m not hitting it. Joints leave you with nothing to clean or handle afterward, and they take time to roll, but they are not the most efficient conveyance.
All this said, I smoked three joints yesterday over a span of seven hours and never really felt that high. Some good strains too, oldies and goldies. Chem Krush, 91 Bacio, Sunset Sherbet. Shoulda been lit, so what gives? I am numb. A little dead inside. I don’t know how to give myself a ride.
Maybe this is the truth. It’s always more about You than it is about The Strain. You are always the most important ingredient. Your conditions have to be right. This strain, that strain. What about you?
Clementine, 3.2.26, 9:56
An early time to smoke for me. But I don’t have anywhere to go today. My conception of this strain so far—I’ve had perhaps four .4g joints—has been that it can provide a lift, some stimulation for getting work done but it isn’t too strong. It hasn’t been a high-deas strain. The first time I smoked it I did a few small tasks around the house; tinkered with something. I’ve done some writing about its effects but it hasn’t really been a rabbit hole/wormhole strain.
I smoked a joint of Clementine twenty minutes ago. It’s damp and chilly outside. We are now under the canopy of a rain dome. There was sleet overnight, then a bit of snow that accumulated only in a few spots, e.g. roof valleys.
The Clementine has given me an immediate lift. I’ve only had one coffee—five hours ago—and one cup of black tea, more recently. The Clem seemed to lend momentum to the tea, and vice versa. I went and fetched a weeding tool; began to do some weeding, my first weeding of the year. I have been a little hungover but still getting a couple things done: replacing a damaged fence board; swiffing some of the basement floor; mixing a new round of bird food; and, putting a tarp over my woodpile and staking it down.
But I didn’t feel so hot. I was slow, heavy, achy, and chagrined. The Clem has me feeling as well as I have all day. I never planned to do any weeding but I had been eyeing some dandelions that were coming in, some winter rocket, and other plants I recognized as being weeds but which I can’t readily name. There is some Queen Anne’s Lace in places, a plant in the carrot family that you don’t want to let go to seed but which will grow a few feet tall, offer white flowers, and attract plenty of pollinators. Anything with a decent flower I want to let flower. Weeds of grass, weeds, weed, flowers and flower. That’s what this blog is about, after all.
The Clementine is not a lounge vibe strain. You’re not going to burn Clementine only to sit down and watch a movie. It would be miscast in that role. It’s in the same ballpark as Blue Dream. If cannabis were coffee.
The times I’ve smoked this Clementine and not gotten the lift have been alcohol-first days, which is most of them. The Clem can’t compete with; can’t cut through more than a couple of drinks. But it might be the closest thing to a hangover-antidote, long-fabled, never found or seen. It has me feeling lighter, which in the heavy grave of a hangover is a helium balloon up to the moon, feels like.
I’m going to get another cup of coffee. After two hours of this run of Clementine I’ll reassess. Could I smoke another Clem joint atop this one? Would that add anything? There’s only one way to find out. More research is needed!
The flower is a nice spark on a cold, dreary day. I was going to roll some joints before I smoked the Clementine. I have .72g of Clementine left. That’s one joint and one bowl. It always feels good to get through an eighth, assuming I have another one on deck.
Yeah, I’ve got some pen-to-paper vibes going. Always a welcome effect.
It’s been a couple-a weeks since I opened this plastic jar of Good Green’s Clementine but still there is a pleasant, fruity, citrus flavor. Maybe that’s from the Tangie in its lineage. There was some of that this time in the smoke as well. But you don’t get the pleasant citrus tang flavor until you’ve processed the strong nose of that nearly omnipresent taste of burnt cannabis which is bitter, earthy, burnt, and chemical in flavor. Plenty of strains whose effects I have reveled in tasted this way, e.g. PTS’s Orange Soda.
There is nothing wrong with this Clementine. I’ve constantly dabbled with it, and now on several occasions it has had me putting pen to paper. It cost $25. I appreciate the opportunity to try a classic strain. It’s a nice grind. It retains some bounce yet it boasts density. It is not seed shell-y. 10:28.
Weeds of Grass 