Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers
cydniey

Maybe I'll Make Chewy Wear his Antlers Tonight

He has two pair. Both are too big. If I put his hoodie on, and his hood up, and the antlers on that, they should fit long enough for me to get a picture of him looking tough, but festive. The cats, I’m afraid, are going to be a total loss. I have a small stocking I’m going to try to photobomb them all with, but I have little hope. They seem to know my mind and are already hiding.


I have a bottle of Napa Valley champagne and orange Gatorade. I think I’ll put the lava lamp next to the little xmas tree and make disco mimosas when Doc leaves for work. I plan to do something artistic tonight. Nothing technical with the computer, purely creative. I don’t know if it will be by hand or on the computer, but I’m just not doing any “work” tonight. I’m arting. And maybe cleaning the house, once I get drunk.


Doctor Who is on all night. When I get tired of it, I have my Firefly discs, and the DVD player is working again. And if that gets old, I’ll move fandoms to Farscape and treat myself to season four, the trippy season.


I’m making a feast for the dog for dinner. Whatever I can find in the fridge and kibble. A holiday feast. He’ll love it, and pay for it tomorrow.


Let’s talk about growing medical marijuana. Let’s talk about how I’ve been reading a lot lately and have figured out that everything our “pot guru” taught us was SO WRONG. That I have been smoking poor quality weed, in small amounts, and waiting long periods for it, for NO GOOD REASON for four years. Rather than get mad, because there is no point, I’m throwing my energy into saving what plants we have, and starting a new crop, done right. We have been veging them too long, letting them get too tall by having the lights way too far away, blooming them as they were starting their dying cycle (to be fair to me, I had brought this point up before a couple of times, just based on common sense, the plants looked like they were dying, not ready and strong enough to create potent buds, but I was shot down by the “guru”), the bug problem we’ve been having is because we’ve been keeping them around too damn long, giving the bugs time after we kill them off in the grow room, which we do after every crop. We should be turning over a crop every 12 weeks. It’s been every 6 months or longer. We FAIL. But we were taught wrong, and we just took the guy’s word for it.


At least we had another source for the nutrient advice, so we’ve been feeding them properly. Just too long. So, we’ve been wasting expensive nutrients on poor weed. Not very smart of us. And it took me getting interested in it. Doc joined a group of medical growers on FB on my account, so I started reading that and complete idiots were growing this magnificent weed. So I started asking questions, then I started reading sources they referred me to, then I knew enough terminology to phrase my own questions in Google to get the answers I needed quickly. Doc is really impressed. He’s been waiting for me to get into this for a long time. I was intimidated by it, because the nutrients all have different formulas and it’s all metric and it all involves math and it is just over my head. But the watering, and the trimming and the lighting and the moving and that I can do. Leave the cloning, transplanting and mixing to Doc.


For example, we have some clones that are 4 weeks old. They are about a meter tall. They are half way done. The old way, they were one tenth of the way done. Another 4 weeks of veg, take a few clones, maybe a week to recover, and then into bloom while it is still fresh and strong. And I bet that the quality of buds that I get will be vastly different. If they aren’t, then I don’t know what to do. Because we really are doing everything wrong.


I slept well last night. I woke up to my quilt all piled up on one side of me, and Felix cuddled into it on my chest. He was caressing my cheek with his paw. I let him do it for a while before I opened my eyes and let him know I was awake. I reached up and touched his paw and he put it on my hand and gently put his claws out a bit and led my hand to his face. We have this whole communication thing going on with each other.  I truly adore that cat. Now that it’s winter, he’s in all the time, and he is absolutely my babycakes. We’ve had a special connection since I first saw him when Mike brought him home from that tweaker’s house. He hid under my bathroom sink and lit up every time I opened the door to see him and bring him a treat or a pet or some water. When he finally came out, he clung to me and craved outside. I eventually started letting him go out at the apartment, and he would jump off the balcony and go romp around. When we moved here to the house, I let him out from the get go. I put the pet-cam on him sometimes. He is a wanderer, but mostly in trees and on rooftops.


In about a week, I will have three more Sticks. One is getting silver leafed. If I like it, another will get gold leafed. I don’t know what I’m going to do with the third. I don’t even know yet if I’ll like all three, once they are trimmed down. I know the other four Doc has for me are far too tall, and I probably won’t use them, unless it’s for an outdoor fence-type project. I have a box of silk leaves and flowers. The leaves and petals randomly glued to the tops of the tall Sticks, and then maybe planting them in painted cinder blocks and lining them up would be cool as a mid-yard art installation. Something to think about. I have these sticks, I feel I should use them. I have them all over my house in different contexts. I’m thinking of painting several neon and doing a wall sculpture in the dining room around the hutch.


Freddie is playing with her pink fuzzy ball in the kitchen. I can’t see her. I can’t see the toy. But she has a certain meow/howl when she plays with the pink fuzzy ball that she doesn’t have with any other toy. And it is echoing, so she is in the kitchen. Oh, now she has it in her mouth and is moving down the hallway into my room. She has awakened Teeny, Simon and Major, here they all come down the hallway, “ding ding ding ding hiss”.


I don’t think I’m going to drink after all tonight. I can’t. Every time I think of it, I think of the last time I did, and how ugly it was, and I just can’t imagine feeling that way again, or doing that much damage to myself again. I looked like I had been in a car accident from bumping into things and bringing things down off shelves onto my head and falling down. I still have a scar on my head that keeps me from ever shaving my head again. I lost a chunk of hair that night, that still hasn’t grown all the way back in. Even though I don’t have enough booze to get that fucked up tonight, I just can’t think of feeling that way, craving feeling more. I don’t like it. Same thing I hate about other drugs. They all, all but pot, make me crave more, or don’t affect me. Alcohol makes me crave more alcohol, makes me want to be more fucked up, makes me think I can handle it. And it makes me one of “those” people. I am an obnoxious drunk. I take after my mother’s side of the family. All the women are obnoxious, mean drunks.


And here, alone, with the internet, that is not a good recipe. I should get some sleep for a couple of hours and get up and cook. I want to bake a pie for the Mexican family up the street that provided the table top for my coffee table and saved me $100. I was just going to send banana bread and fudge, but now I want to send a pie, too. They are a big family. Usually I send a few dozen cookies. I have an extra tin, I’ll whip up some kind of cookie and add it to the bundle. I wonder if I have a gift bag for any of this. I should make them a card, as well. I can get “Thank you for being good neighbors” translated and put it in the card with the traditional Feliz Navidad.


Yeah, either I’m going to go to sleep, or take a soak. Sleep. Soak tomorrow. I’ll watch this episode of NCIS, or pretend to while surfing various xmas specials up and down the dial, and smoke a bowl, finish my coffee and ice water and process a couple of pictures, and then go to sleep for a couple of hours. Then I’ll get up, clean, track Santa on NORAD and bake a couple of things. They are going to try very hard to make Doc come home early. We’ll see if he gives in and shows up soaking wet and freezing at 3am. The wind gusts are meant to be up to 50mph tonight and it is supposed to rain after 10pm, with snow down to 3,000 feet. I think we are at 2,000 here, if not 1,500, or maybe I am off and we are way lower. I really have no clue. Summerlin is 4,500-3,000 ft., but that is on the other side of town, on the outskirts of town, like this once was. But it encroaches up the foothills. We’re in a high point of our part of town, but I don’t know how high above sea level that is.


Have a nice Christmas Eve, and a nicer Christmas. I hope you are spending it how you want. Despite my whining, I am. I kind of wish Doc was home, but I kind of don’t. I’m having a great Christmas Eve. Me and the animals. And you guys. Thank you for spending another holiday with me.

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