Racintweek
¡ §M¤k€ ®¤©K$!!!!!!
Well I had a long winded intro a while back,but this is more serious.
Who am I and why do I grow??
Let's see, single dad to 2 kiddos. I have a woman, a pretty damn good one too.
Always smoked and helped on some other people's gardens but never had my own.
Never thought of starting my own grow but it felt like a good time.
The only reason I started this grown was to honor my brother. He loved the weed culture. He grew himself, edibles, etc. He was also a glass blower. Pretty simple guy. He surfed and loved the beach. One of his last jobs was building custom lures for competetion billfishing teams. A beach bum in every way.
Back in February he passed away. Only 35 years old. An old demon came back to haunt him after getting hurt on the job and getting a prescription for opiates. He had been clean for years.
He overdosed on heroin after getting stuck on the pills and had no more prescriptions. It was a bad bag most likely fentanyl laced.
His last job was union so no smoking was possible.
I know if he would have been able to smoke for pain he would have never touched that shit again, but he also should have known better.
He loved his feet in the sand and his hands crafting glass.
This one's for you homie, we all miss you.
Who am I and why do I grow??
Let's see, single dad to 2 kiddos. I have a woman, a pretty damn good one too.
Always smoked and helped on some other people's gardens but never had my own.
Never thought of starting my own grow but it felt like a good time.
The only reason I started this grown was to honor my brother. He loved the weed culture. He grew himself, edibles, etc. He was also a glass blower. Pretty simple guy. He surfed and loved the beach. One of his last jobs was building custom lures for competetion billfishing teams. A beach bum in every way.
Back in February he passed away. Only 35 years old. An old demon came back to haunt him after getting hurt on the job and getting a prescription for opiates. He had been clean for years.
He overdosed on heroin after getting stuck on the pills and had no more prescriptions. It was a bad bag most likely fentanyl laced.
His last job was union so no smoking was possible.
I know if he would have been able to smoke for pain he would have never touched that shit again, but he also should have known better.
He loved his feet in the sand and his hands crafting glass.
This one's for you homie, we all miss you.