Barefoot.
Baked.
(No, not Naked - Baked.....although naked sounds good, too.)
Sun deck. Scents on the breeze. Songbirds.
And relax....
Yet just because we live too close to and downwind of the neighbors, who are cultured and warm but straight personified (we're not sure they're not lawyers), I have to smoke my pipe upstairs indoors! I have to get up, walk inside and crouch on the hard floor of my grow cupboard.
UV, too, when my eyes could be benefiting from sunlight.
In my fifties!
On my own property!
Only the human race could come up with a situation like that: we are such collective liars. How can this harmless, enjoyable medicinal plant be illegal when alcohol isn't?
If our neighbours threw a party and a drunken guest threw up over our fence that would soon be forgotten (and rightly so) but if they caught my healing smoke and called the police we could face jail. And everyone would view us as druggy scumbags.
Fortunately cannabis used moderately raises consciousness. So millions of us using it together could be seen as the collective sacrifice of a holy plant for the upliftment of the human race in general.
Better hurry off indoors to get some illegal magic, then - better not be late for that one!
See you there, I hope ;)
Missis Hippy
Photo by Joshua Newton on Unsplash (the sun deck photo was from Pixabay.)
