Tag: Hugo

Strawberry Pines by Somatic

~ johnbrandall ~ Leave a comment

3.28.2026, 16:05

This Strawberry Pines hits pretty hard, pretty quick. It's a bit of a spitter but not untasty. Something of a stupor, a stuporous feeling, a drowse, marsh-mallow-y. I'm listening to baseball, have been for four or five hours. It's the fourth day of the season. This is Mets-Pirates, tied at one. There had been zero extra-inning games so far, then: Rays/Cards, A's/Jays, and now Mets/Pirates.

"New York is challenging the out all at home plate," says the umpire, his voice fed over the stadium's loud speaker.

I'm not sure if writing is helping or hurting. Two straight outs at the plate. That was a squabbler, a fielder's choice. Soto to first, Young out at home. Force play. Nowhere else to go. No tag necessary, just step on the plate before the runner arrives. Fly out to right. To the eleventh!

Most of the gram of Strawberry Pines I bought in Clovis, NM en route Tucson by way of Ruidoso, NM. I smoked a bowl of Strawberry Pines while in the pines of Ruidoso.

I'm baked. Staring off into the distance (the wall). Now the Red Sox and Reds go to extra innings!

We are in Tucson, Arizona. I bought this Strawberry Pines in Clovis, New Mexico. The grower is Somatic. The dispensary was an R Greenleaf. They have a lot of flower by the gram. Yesterday I had a different strawberry strain—Strawberry Pancakes—from High Noon Cult. Then I had a Mezcal Melonade, also from High Noon Cultivation. I can't say anything specific about either of those strains but I went to bed content; had my first vodka of the day as a nightcap, on the bed stand. That's been a good place for it.

The Mezcal Melonade is an indica. I smoked it right before going to sleep. I suppose I slept pretty well for a few hours. Then my sister-in-law arrived. I was up for a few minutes. It was not unexpected. Yet, awakening, there was a sense of confusion, surprise—what's this now? what's that light? Is someone here? Then back to sleep, a legitimate sleep, until 3 or so—what was five my time (or what had been my time in Missouri for the last two weeks, until DST kicked back in). Multiple time changes, changing time (poem below)...


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Prickly Pear by Grow Sciences

~ johnbrandall ~ 1 Comment

Smoked a Prickly Pear .4-gram joint. An hour ago? It's 19:06 on December 21, 2025. I'm in Arizona. Catalina Foothills to be precise.

I am going between two notebooks, notebook shuttling. The House and the Senate, we're going to need to conference, we're going to have to reconcile two competing versions of these bills.

I've sipped some vodka; so far I've held off on dinner. Earlier I read more of E. Annie Proulx's short story collection "Heart Songs." The screen door is still what stands between inside here and outside in that dependable desert.

I am not quite baked on the Prickly Pear flower from Grow Sciences. I'm just short of baked. I feel the effects behind the eyes. I'd classify these effects as straight-up hybrid, 50/50. More and more this feels like where I want to be. The lineage is OGKB x Purple Chitral Kush (source: Leafly, link here). OGKB is said to be a descendant or perhaps a specific cut of GSC. Purple Chitral Kush is a Pakistani indica, something you don't see every day. (Source: Seedfinder, link here). I've been seeking out or landing on these OGKB offspring recently because I'm seeking that baked effect.

At 19:11, I am getting ready to scarf some pizza. Everyone else—my wife and her parents—have already eaten. I'm back in the bedroom taking a little time for myself to see what this Prickly Pear is all about.

A generous eighth of Prickly Pear from Grow Sciences.

Invigorous insomnia, boycott embargo, inferno

I still feel the Prickly Pear, my ears are ringing. 21:26. That's three and a half hours. Maybe this was what the kief and taffy did to me before I collapsed in the Farmhouse two weeks ago. Slew me. I could re-up, smoke another—but I think I'll try again tomorrow. More of the Prickly Pear then, when I'm fresh.

It has been a non-sedative high without a sativa or Gelato-esque rush. Closer to the baked effect I've been going for. I've been awake and alert but very quiet. Just trying to make it through December, hat tip to Mr. Haggard...


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Catalina Wine Mixer by Illicit

~ johnbrandall ~ Leave a comment

After burning a .39-gram joint of the Catalina Wine Mixer, I stood outside watering for an hour. The effects were bite-y. Confrontational. True.

This is some strong bud. Psychedelic? That bite, it's another level. We put our dog Hugo down two weeks ago. It's hard not to think about him 24/7, especially when I'm high, especially if the strain bites, which the Wine Mixer certainly does. It's that Sunset Sherb in there. As a parent in a cross, its effects always seem to carry through. The high is almost immediate and it will reach into your closet, into the depths of your mind and grab anything it can to throw at you. This is probably what freaks out less-seasoned smokers. This is what gets called paranoia. Nay. This is part of the process. You cannot run from what is already in your mind, what has already happened. Go in knowing this. Face what you have to face. Get through to the other side.

I have serious second thoughts about putting Hugo down when we did. Why didn't I fight harder to keep him around? Why didn't I realize I would miss him this much? I'm having to look in the mirror. No dog to scapegoat any more. This hurts but it's my reality and I need to handle it. At least I can stand outside and water the plants during what has turned into something of a drought.

As my Dad said recently from his nursing home bed, "It's complicated, but it's not complicated. Crippled by a years-long dementia, he still dishes the odd bit of wisdom and I take in every drop...


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