SMOKE REPORT:
I ended up bottling this batch a little sooner than I had initially intended. We’ll be hosting houseguests for the next week, and I wanted to get the highly aromatic task of final trimming done before they arrive. That’s a compromise I’m willing to make in order to avoid having to deal with my mother-in-law’s inquiries about the smell, and why I’m spending so much time alone.
That, plus I’ve had a hard time keeping the humidity near my target of 60%. It has fluctuated quite a bit, from as low as 28% (when I left the humidifier off and the exhaust fan running) to as high as 78% (when I experimented with leaving the humidifier on and the exhaust fan off). For the most part, I’ve had both running at the same time. But even with the humidifier cranked as high as it goes, the exhuast fan was sucking away the moisture. On average, the relative humidity stayed in the mid 40s. So the plants were drying a little quicker than ideal. They hung for only 8 days. But they felt and smelled ready for the next step. So, on Sunday morning, I set about trimming and bottling them.
Once the dry trimming was done, I scraped the resin from my scissors and my sticky fingertips, and asked my wife if she wanted to test it. She agreed to have at it, so I put it into the bowl of my bong. There was very little material; it was just a few flakes, the size of a crumpled ant. So I was amazed at how much smoke it generated. She inhaled a thick and billowing column of it, and – true to the strain’s name (Strawberry Cough) – immediately commenced to coughing. I capped the bowl and the mouth of the bong with my hands, holding what was left inside, since she was unable to inhale all of it.
I showed her the cloud still swirling in the bong, and told her it wasn’t done yet. So she stepped up to the plate and took another massive hit as I torched the little blob of goo. Once again, she coughed out a thick, dense cloud of smoke before I even had a chance to lift the bowl. I took a look at what was left. …Still going. So, once again, I capped the bong to capture the remaining smoke.
She was a little less eager to go a third round so quickly. But it was probably only a minute later when she did her darndest to finish off the glowing ember. She got ~most~ of it, leaving only a residual haze floating in the bong’s neck. I was curious whether there was anything strawberry-tasting about it, so I sucked that down, myself.
Nothing about it reminded me of strawberries, but it was peppery. It didn’t look like much, but it expanded to fill my lungs. And a few minutes later, I realized it was also VERY potent.
When I first indulged in weed, the summer between 10th and 11th grades (in the '70s), it took me a few smoking sessions before I actually got high. I haven’t gotten high for more than 40 years, so I figured my brain wouldn’t even register the tiny amount of THC in that little wisp of leftover smoke. There was hardly anything to it! But, maaannnnnnn… That smoke was the BOMB!
Early on, my wife reported visual distortions, seeing speed trails behind objects as they entered into and then left her field of vision. Not much later, she wanted to lie down and take a nap despite having a full day’s agenda (preparing for our houseguests’ arrival). She laid down but said she didn’t sleep. Instead, she said her mind conjured a pastiche of people and events from the past and the future; just random snippets of unrelated thoughts, like a bunch of movies from different eras and different genres spliced together.
As she was resting, I set about trying to do most of what was on my to-do list. I was moderately impaired; definitely too stoned to drive, but able to tackle the chores I had set out for myself – despite ocassionally forgetting what I was doing, talking to myself a lot, and making way too many trips up and down the stairs or out into the garage for things I would normally consolidate into a single trip.
Two or three hours passed, and my wife got up. I told her the reason she was dragging was because she hadn’t been outdoors yet. It was a cold but cloudless, windless day. I had been doing a combination of indoor and outdoor chores, and was feeling invigorated by the warmth of the sun. So I convinced her to come out for a walk. We were both still tripping, and enjoyed the conversation combined with a little bit of exercise.
Any way, to make a long story only slightly shorter (sorry for rambling), we were high for most of the day. Assuming this weed cures to a finish that’s anywhere near as potent as that little chunk of resin, it’ll be very popular. I only netted three quart jars, each as full as can be. But they ought to last quite a while. I’m still abstaining, but once I get back in the game, I may be able to get high from of a small fraction of a toke. 
They’re probably both over-fed.
The damaged leaves are still showing enough green that I’m not plucking them or trimming them yet. The buds are continuing to fill out, and the fragrance when I open the closet door is still sweet and dank.
). So she’s got some crispy tips to go along with her yellow blush.
That weird trait in plant B where one side of the plant is producing spears of buds and the other half is producing buds among fan leaves is more clearly evident in that second to last photo. I ended up adding a stake to help support the drooping side of spears.
I may have left some of A’s roots in the planter.) The stems were both generally the same size.
awesome!
