beatin' a dead horse

As my late friend George used to say "Oh, boy!" My morbid fascination with the (all bad) news led to the discovery that the feds are ramping up to raid all of the medicinal marijuana shops in California, which is legal in THAT state, among others. Now, I totally understand that state governments don't have the cash borrowing power that the US government does, but mine, at least, has done a very good job on the local state levels to begin eradication of the most horrid of all drugs, meth. Feds can't deal with that because they're too busy chasing illegals and pot smokers. Nor should they. To me, this is a total waste of our money on something that will always be there and creates a terrific stream of violence because of its' prohibition and the underground trade. Millions of dollars in tax revenues for medicinal and personal use of weed could be plopped into the treasury. But bound for us...playing Big Ike and putting even more hours on the DEA payroll. Come on people! No wonder everybody's getting all riled up and staging protests. But then, some folks just never learn from history. Wonder how the country would go if just one state seceded? All of that is just to say this: Pick your battles wisely or you lose before you ever start.

It's still quite warm here with cool nights that require central AC to filter out the cotton and whatnot. As usual, we're in the middle of a long dry spell that will end with a rain that never ceases. We were one short at the sawmill today but thanks to Big Ernie there was a good crew in ER and we weren't that busy. My co-worker and I were discussing family dysfunction this morning and she brought up my grandmother's lost fortune, a nice little chunk that was left to her when my grandfather died at 45. There were three children, two older girls and a baby boy. By the time my grandma died, my mother and aunt had to pay for the funeral because there was nothing left of that vast fortune due to babyboy's love of alcohol and drugs. And no...pot was not the problem. He was big time hooked on Qualuudes and the other powerful prescription drugs of the sixties and seventies and he died at the age of 36 on my watch at the hospital. Not.Pretty. I remember watching his two little girls at the cemetery wondering how their lives would be affected by this tragic waste.

Corporate swung by yesterday afternoon while I was out chopping limbs so that was a good impression :) We are discussing the history of the farm and trying to piece it together for a book but there's a gap in the ownership history that we must track down. This community was once a thriving residential place next to the busy river. My ex husband's grandfather was murdered in a bar set right next to the banks, hidden in a cotton field. You can't make that shit up!

I'm outta here to enjoy the sunshine. Peace out kids ^j^