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I hope everyone is high and hopeful out there in Cannatopia! I know I am! WOOOO HOOOOO for crop time. All those hours that my honey is away working his ass off pay off in this moment of a deep inhale off this joint of Da-Purps, working on getting my body aches right, maybe my mind will get right… I highly doubt it… hahaha… after I do this funny unload about a couple of very familiar job hazards when it comes to growing cannabis. Yeah… we all can relate or have witnessed these hazards happen to a fellow stoner; each of them stings in a different way, but both generally lead to loads of laughter and riding it out. At least in my house, we have grown to just laugh it off and move on from it because it just comes with the territory. As a matter of fact, one of the job hazards my honey has done to himself at least twice in the last two days during harvesting and all he could do was… well… nothing.
What my honey suffered from is what I have come to call TRI-eye. It is when a farmer, processor, or fellow stoner has been fondling sticky icky buds covered in those lovely little delicious gooey heads of utter sweet joy. Yeah they sound all sugar and shit, but let me tell you what, when you get that sweetness in your eye… oh fuck, that is it… it’s all over. Blindness sets in and your eye snaps shut in self defense, but also holding the tricomes in your eye. There is nothing sweet about your eyeball bubbling out of the socket. You get this slight burning in the beginning and as the tricomes soften and releases their juice across your cornea you begin to believe that there are actual blisters forming in there. Are there blisters in my eye? There is a fire in there? Is that why we call weed fire? Are you fucking kidding me? It burns! It burns and tears can’t even flush that shit out, no water can be the cure, no twenty minute rinse will squash this. You know what kills TRI-eye? Time, don’t touch it, and laughter, lots of laughter. You have to just suffer, so that is where the laughter enters, so you don’t lose your shit; you can’t see, you are crying like a baby, and you know better, because guess what? You have done this shit to yourself before.
My favorite stoner moment getting my own dose of TRI-eye was many years ago; it might have been my first memorable moment of getting the gooey blindness. It was totally a dork move on my part. I might have spent a bit too long at the table trimming that day, but you know what? In the end, it was laughter that saved me and still helps when… yes, I have gotten TRI-eye way more than once. It was one of our first crops and I had been trimming — my favorite medicinal strain still — Da-Purps (I will showcase her in my Apothecary Jar in the near future) at the table for hours with my honey and one of my lifelong friends. Sorry, it can get a bit sporadic at times, so hopefully I still can keep you and you don’t get to lost, but I like to write how I think; it works for me and I believe some of you out there may actually hear me… but anyways …Darn it, back to the story. So we had been trimming for hours, and wow, Da-Purps was so purple she was damn near black, she was very reminiscent to a black rose and she was covered in sugar and I mean covered… I am not saying this because I am biased being my honey grows my meds; no, I mean she was shittin’ sugar. My dumb ass was laying on my back on my bed giving my body a stretch after we had finished, and I had my arms straight up high in the air above my head and I don’t know what happened, I must have been temporarily abducted, but my ass begin to rub my finger tips together causing tricomes to fall from my hands to… you guessed it… right into my eyes. Now here is the kicker, I was laying there doing this do myself going, oooooohhhhhh, it’s snowing!!! How stupid was I? Joke was on me, and damn that took me back to my annual in-services of getting pepper-sprayed when I was in corrections! Not fuckin’ cool at all... As a matter of fact, it was pretty fuckin’ hot, bubbly, itchy, burny… everything the opposite of cool, and yes, I remember laughing through the pain and so did everyone else. Believe it or not, it helped, and it was one hell of a learning experience that I haven’t quite learned completely from, because yes, since then it has happened many more times, even after just rolling a joint.
Now tricomes may be a culprit and major producer of tears in the garden, but I have learned that they come in handy with helping with the other hazard on the job, scissor nips… ouch! I suffer from these way more than my honey, and yeah I could wear gloves and I could get one of those machines, but no; I prefer a hands on approach with my cannabis because I can’t transfer love and healing vibes through latex… and besides, I wash my damn hands and I am not in there all nasty… yuck… come on, seriously? It is my medicine, you know? I have learned if it is just a small nip, that the sticky of the icky helps seal and heal the wound and you are left to carry on. Now, if you seriously cut yourself, don’t expect the tricomes to work miracles, go get a first aid. No one wants anyone bleeding all over their weed, and for certain they don’t want chunks in it either, so be careful. If you find yourself getting tired, take a break, because I know that when I have had a long day of trimming is when I begin to take my tips off.
So, when cultivating your cannabis or even fondling it to get ready to enjoy, look alive for your fingertips and don’t get nipped, and be aware of the risk of TRI-eye; don’t panic, after the pain and the sting are gone, and the bubbles have ceased to spread and pop, and the gooey tricomes have allowed your eyes to barely open… just a slit… and thru the tears that are still running down your face, remember you will be left high in the sky in your eye and hopefully a few good core muscles will get a workout from the laughter, and guess what… it will happen again!
Love, light, & gettin’ minds right!!!