Tag: Nora

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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Hot Chipz by 93 Boyz

~ johnbrandall ~ Leave a comment

It's been at least 2 hours since my second joint of the night, 93 Boyz's Hot Chipz. Tasty! As if it were a fine tobacco or a clove. Djarum. Something you'd smoke even if it didn't have a psychoactive effect—because of its gentle, flavorful taste. This one I don't have much of left, maybe enough for one last bowl. It's a thick, luscious smoke that looks good in landscape light in the dark as rain falls. A pleasurable smoke. And two-plus hour effects. Some couch lock. I had my dog—new dog Nora—snuggling on me, her head on my leg. Where was I gonna go?

We were watching curling, US-Japan, women quads. Then Italy and Sweden. They are long matches. Nine ends, ten ends, eights rocks a side every end. Who's got the hammer? Watching curling and relaxing. Then I did get Nora out, into a misty light rain. She did her business, we came back inside.

I am ready to read and sleep. Not a bad night. The Hot Chipz can go whichever way you want. My ears are ringing a little. Buzzed. House sounds. Light timers click, ratchet, trickle. Air handler blowers whir, one for each heat pump. I could fall asleep to curling but I'll be more comfortable in my own bed. Somewhat elated-happy-content, slightly baked. Tired. A good day. 20:42.

The lineage on this is Runtz x Cheetah Piss.

Awesome grind. Dense, fine, efficient. Not blown out; not seedy, shelly, or puffy.

This was my oldest bag/jar. Not only is there nothing wrong with it but I would buy this again, as it was when I opened it, a year beyond package date. A good at home with the dog on a rainy Saturday strain. 20:43...


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Sunset Sherbet by Good Green

~ johnbrandall ~ 1 Comment

Smoked a Sunset Sherb joint. .4 grams. This time I felt the bite. Which is to say the smoke gets all up in my head and starts my mind going like a hamster on a wheel.

There is less alcohol in my system than what is normal for me for this time of day. The emotions are flooding. I am letting what annoys me take over my entire mindset and well-being. This is the bite. I have noticed recently that Group Texts are staging a social media coup of my phone. I am not on Facebook. I used to use Instagram but I quit it early 2024. I am not on Twitter or X or whatever they're calling it these days. I've never used TikTok; never will.

I have this blog, and another blog (JBR.com) and I use Spotify, if that counts as social media. But now my Messages app seems like a backdoor means for sudden social media-like twisters to work their way into my awareness. Larger and larger groups of people. Reactions to this or that. Today, a poll. I'm not cut out for this kind of communication anymore. I'm just not interested. When it comes to texting I find myself ready to go back to the days of dumb phones.

Opting out of these conversations (even though I never opted in) seems harsh. But I also dislike feeling like I need to have a reason to "leave." Now I'm feeling this textbook Sherb bite and the bite is taking me right into this confused, ambivalent headspace. Into the Complaint Zone. Rant and rave. Wasting time, wasting thoughts! Any more to have my peace it feels like I have to throw up walls and then I feel guilty.

My wife is headed out of town but I don't want to go anywhere. I'm happy at home with Nora, who is otherwise partial to my wife, even shadows her. Now that I'll have a chance to bond a bit with the dog, in my wife's absence, I don't imagine I'll want to do anything else. Solitude, if and when I can get it, is a rarity. A scarcity. I won't give it up so easily.

The Sunset Sherb once again has me putting pen to paper. I have finished a beer but I don't have any vodka in me (yet). Perhaps this allows the bite to set harder, truer. So I try to write the bite away. Just putting this mini-diatribe on paper has me feeling better, calmer. I should try to move onto some other topic. And steer clear of the vodka for at least another hour. 17:01...


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