When Grandpa Wick Grew the Pot

Greeting to all, and welcome home to that group from the desert, you know who I’m talking bout!

It’s so cold Monday you’d think it early winter, evening came and morning followed. The second day, it’s raining on and off all day, evening came and morning followed. The third day, it’s sun shining and almost warm, but not quite. Then as the baseball season gets swinging, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, Mother Nature hits the grand slam ! Is this spring time weather or what?

It seems like only yesterday I’m telling ya bout my Maple Tree outside the south window of the East Wing losing all its fall color. Well now it’s the other side of the coin. The buds are turning into baby leaves. The baby leaves are starting to unfold and all the while getting ready for a full season of good ole photosynthesis .

Now that’s a big ass word if there ever was one, that photosynthesis. I never expected to use that word when I went to school at Tip Top. I’m not even sure they had photosynthesis at Tip Top.

Photosynthesis is just a big word that simply means the process by which green plants and other organisms turn carbon dioxide and water into carbohydrates and oxygen, using light energy trapped by chlorophyll. Amazing thing, this photosynthesis, and ya gona love this, the byproduct of photosynthesis is the same oxygen we must have in order to breath, and the byproduct of us all breathing is the same carbon dioxide needed for plants to produce photosynthesis. Is that just too cool or what? And yes, that green pond scum stuff ya see floating on standing water in the summertime, photosynthesis.

Think I’ll call my mama up and tell her I know about photosynthesis, there was a time where she doubted if I’d ever know much of anything in this world, and it might make her feel good to think I know about photosynthesis. Now I’m not gona tell her I know about physics or any stuff like that, cause she wouldn’t believe me even if I said I knew. All mamas are the same, ya never become an adult in the eyes of your mother. Forever precious babies.

My mama lives on the edge of what was, during World War II, a 120 acre hemp field, yes, Cannabis, marijuana, dope, or whatever else ya want to call it. Just north of Toto it was grown as a product to make rope for the war effort. It continues to thrive in that area to this day despite efforts to irradiate its growth.

Years ago when my father, Wick Howard, was alive, one spring day a marijuana plant started to grow beside the steps leading into the house. My father watered and fertilized the plant. It grew as if a bean stalk clawing its way into the sky, just waiting for Jack. Now one of my father’s friends just happened to be the Sheriff of Starke County at the time, a fellow by the name of Gordon.

The sheriff was in the habit of stopping by every few weeks or so just to say hello to my dad. On one such visit he noticed the plant. Gordon said to my dad “Wick, you have a marijuana plant growing by your steps” My dad says “It’s my garden” Gordon says “It’s illegal to grow that plant” my dad says “It’s illegal to sell, not illegal to grow, and Gordon don’t forget I’m a Baptist Preacher and part of my responsibility to the Lord is to take care of his creations. I give that plant the same care and attention I do the squirrels when they come to eat the corn I stick on that nail at the feeder. The same attention as the birds I feed. Gordon I even plant flowers so the humming birds have something special to eat. Now it the Lord didn’t want me to take care of that marijuana seed then he would’ve planted it somewhere else, he didn’t, so I guess I just gotta take care of the marijuana plant this year.”

The Sheriff just smiled and said “ Can I at least come back and harvest your crop when its ready, so I can look good in the eyes of the Indiana State Police for doing my part in Marijuana control.” To which my dad replied “Gordon of course you can, now I know why God planted the seed here to begin with , he likes ya Gordon, and wants ya to look good to the Indiana State Police, so ya be sure to come back when my marijuana is ready and just pick to your heart’s content.”

And so it happened, when the time was right the sheriff came back with a photographer, harvested the huge marijuana plant, recorded it in photos, and thanked my dad for growing it and allowing him to pick marijuana at his door step.

I’ve always considered myself lucky to have been a part of that little story, just a fly on the wall, listening to conversations between two good friends having fun with the cards and playing their hands that life had dealt them both.

Precious Memories, how they linger, how they ever flood my sole. There’s one thing for sure, time never stops. Treasure every moment you have, and when you can, share it with someone special. To truly understand the importance of a friend….lose one.

I can hardly wait for butterflies to come by! I love butterflies. The neat thing about butterflies, they were all something else just a short time before ya see um as butterflies. Metamorphosis is what make butterflies. Now metamorphosis is just the process whereby things change from being one thing into another thing in the process of becoming an adult creature in their species.
Frogs do that metamorphosis thing too. Tadpoles to frogs, there ya go.

I’m for sure gona have to tell my mama I know about that metamorphosis thing too, she’ll be so proud. Two big words in one evening, WOW!

Another thing I look forward to seeing every year is humming birds, I think I told ya about holding a humming bird in my hands last year. Suffice it to say that holding a humming bird in your hands is a special gift from God. Not everybody holds a humming bird and lives to tell the story. I still get chills.

Thank you one and all for your kind words regarding my including the email from Iraq last week. I thought about that email for some time before I decided to share it with you. It was the right thing to do. I‘ve promised to never share the email addresses. I’ve not promised to not share the words from the desert. You need to know, and so do I.

You will be glad to hear that Pub Baby James, Mustina, finally dug up her first ground mole on Wednesday, she loved it to death, carried it around for the better part of three hours, played with the mole for a long time. She wanted to bring it into the house, but the 1cat, Sophia, firmly put her paw down on that idea.

Sophia, will not even talk to the 2girl dogs if they have been playing with the ground moles. It is beneath her dignity to associate with dogs playing with moles. The Republican Calico Cat does have an air about her.

The girl dogs digging holes in my yard have so such fun finding ground moles, I wouldn’t change it if I could, and I could easy enough by just killing off the food supply that attracts the mole to begin with. But then the only thing left for the 2dogs would be nothing but grass.

People who have perfect manicured lawns miss a lot in life. All that work and nothing in return except level green grass to which ya’ve become a slave. Ya’ve never had the pleasure of seeing nature working just the way God intended it to work in the first place, without chemicals or anything artificial , ya never get to see your dogs digging up ground moles and saying”gotya”.

It’s been such a pleasure enjoying your company on this most beautiful of April Evenings in this Spring Time of 2009. We so enjoy your company and all, 2dogs, 1cat, 1wife and I look forward to your next visit to the East Wing.

Stay Safe in Baghdad
From the East Wing, remembering when the Sheriff Picked the Pot
I wish you well,
BobbyRay