I remember the day I bought my first clone. It was glorious, the sun was shining, business was good, and I was now going to grow cannabis of my own. She was a beauty and I had the same feeling you have when you get a new pet. I wanted to hold it and love it and take good care of it so it had a good life.
My business partner’s husband helped me name her Wendy. We were negotiating with a Wendy’s franchise owner to sell us a building for a dispensary at the time so it made sense.
The budtender at Torrey Holistics told me just how to take care of her during her transition home and I followed everything he said verbatim. I had adopted my son seven years prior so I knew a thing or two about transition.
But then, Wendy seemed sad.
I was leaving for the weekend so I scooped her up and took her to the lake for the July fourth weekend. Spoiled little plant.
Well, she didn’t think so. She didn’t appreciate the sun. She didn’t appreciate water.
She was an unappreciative bitch, in fact.
I only wanted her love; she wanted nothing from me. She may have been weaned from her brothers and sisters at the dispensary too soon. I didn’t know.
She never let me love her.
Or I loved her too hard.
May she rest in peace. Our two and a half weeks together were magical and I will never forget her.
It took time, about eight months, before I could take the leap of faith and try my luck with another clone.
This time my friend brought one over from his grow facility. She was beautiful in her red solo cup. It was love at first sight. My friend told me he would train me to keep my plant alive.
I was terrified to lose another beloved family member, but I was up for the task.
First, we named her “Todd” (if you read the first blog, you get it) but then after some discussions about a female plant with a male name, my seven year-old son renamed her “Todd-a-Rita”.
Todd-a-Rita was a beauty. Her family line was Maturo Blue, which is a high CBD cannabis plant.
I replanted her in a large ceramic pot and bought a good growing light for her first days with us. She was growing like a weed and looking great. I was in awe that I could keep something so beautiful alive.
It was time to travel for a week with the family and Todd-a-Rita couldn’t join us so I enlisted a sitter to give her the love she needed.
Unfortunately, by the time I returned, the sitter deemed Todd-a-Rita ready for the outdoors. Mostly, because he didn’t want to deal with timing the light.
Todd-a-Rita seemed fine with the changes for a while. She grew taller and her buds looked like they were on the path to success. However, when I sent photos of her to the cultivator, he said she was an “early bloomer”. I didn’t care because she was healthy.
She became my most prized photography subject. I took photos of her growth and the sticky buds that developed. She was watered frequently and re-potted in a breathable pot so her roots could breath.
I was a proud mother.
Until I wasn’t.
I took my eyes off her for two and a half days and when I checked on my baby, she had bugs. Part of the biggest bud had turned brown and the leaves looked sickly.
My beautiful little plant was all of a sudden knocking at death’s door and the only blame I could accept was the fact that she was outside. Todd-a-Rita needed protection from the stoner spiders and other bugs that lurked around my patio.
I watched her for a couple days but her death was imminent. It was torture to watch the green goddess turn to a sad yellow and brown mess.
There was nothing I could do to remedy the situation.
My baby was gone.
I’m ready to try one more but it will never see the outer world. I can’t trust the outdoors with my plant children, obviously.
Maybe I’m not meant to have my own plant. Time will tell when I get the next one and keep her protected. If the next one dies, I will quit this process with blood on my hands.
There are two less plants in the world because of me and I can barely live with myself.
Stay tuned for the next one. And don’t be shy if you have some specific tips for a neophyte grower like myself.