New blog with new stories.  Warning, don’t follow the link unless you want to get hooked.  Start at the first June 3 post and read the 5 entries in order to get the full effect. Links to all at the bottom of this post

My heart is pounding so hard I bet you anything they can hear it thru the door. They hit michael in the head with a bat! I knew that they shouldn’t have trusted those biker guys. I just knew it. Everyone knows the rules. Don’t EVER let ANYONE that’s not family to the grow. NEVER EVER. All the places I have ever trimmed, I have never seen anyone pick up at the grow. Not ever. Oh my god! I heard a gunshot! I’m gonna die here! I don’t want to die like this! Ok. Calm down. I’m safe. Nobody will ever come upstairs and look in this closet. There is no way. I hear boots coming up the stairs and I hear yelling in the front room.

“I know it’s here. Find that shit NOW before one of these pussies gets DEAD!”

Someone just opened the bathroom door. Someone is in this room! Oh please! The footsteps get louder until they stop and I can see shadows at the bottom of the closet door. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I can. I feel the morning light hit my face as the closet door is opened

First installment My heart is pounding so hard I bet you anything they can hear it thru the door. They hit Michael in the head with a bat!

2nd installment I was born on the Mendocino Coast but I don’t want to die here.

3rd installment When I was growing up in the cabin on Singers Cliffs, our nights were filled with music and marijuana.

4th installment Trims were like a mini vacation in my eyes. Everyone would make food days prior to bring along.

5th installment Plastic bags and disposable items aren’t the norm in our area. In a drawer in my grandparents cabin is a piece of cheesecloth and a length of twine that I reused growing up. We take great pains to return it so it can be used again. It’s become a matter of pride to see who’s lunch wrappers are older!