After a tragic house fire when I was a young child I was sent into the heartland of the country to live with my Uncle Roy, a man I had never met before.
Roy was a farmer, a devout Christian, and an overall good dude.
But he was not a parent, and not comfortable with children. Roy did the best he could with me, but let’s just say it wasn’t a great childhood. Now that I am an adult, my relationship with Roy has blossomed, and we have become the best of friends. Although Roy is a religious man, he is also a huge fan of smoking cannabis. Roy says that cannabis is a gift from God, which is why he grows so much of it on his farm in secret. Once or twice a month I stop by Roy’s farm to hang out with him, and I always make sure to be on-hand when it’s time for a cannabis harvest. Roy doesn’t have a whole field of cannabis plants but he is pretty old at this point, and needs all the help he can get. I drive out for a weekend to assist with the cannabis harvest, and then he gives me a bunch of weed to take home with me. I would gladly help him for free, but Roy insists on sharing “the spoils of war” from his cannabis plants. We are always careful to wear gloves during the cannabis harvest, otherwise we can absorb too much of the THC through our skin while handling it. That is not as fun as it sounds.