Marijuana is a source of strength but then

[illcommandante]

there are some others from the plant kingdom. About ten days before I turn sixtyfour, (Next September)I'll set up my camp on Huckleberry Gap. I'm taking my wood cook stove this time. I'll wade into those bushes every morning before the bears have had a chance to hide. I wear my ancient Herman Survivors in hopes that I will. The best berries I'll flash freeze and the worst will end up in jars of juice. Fourteen hours is about three gallons, which equals about twelve pies, which equals about a million dollars. Mother nature is screaming and you might not be hearing the whole message. As long as you're being good to yourself. Go all the way. And view this "Fat Free" crap with a cautious eye. Go with the lard crust. Like your grandmother did.

[Sea Mac]

Any recipes you'd care to share? 

[illcommandante]

My peach pie took the blue ribbon, and my blackberry took the white, at The Josephine County Fair last summer. The ladies let me waltz off with most of the honors. In fact, only one of them even showed. Did my reputation scare them away? I doubt it because I don't make the best pie yet, and I'm way better than I was then. Still, I'm starting to get some compliments (Should I confess to the lard?) And, my worst pie is better than anything you can buy or order. And, you can't order a Huckleberry pie. You have to go way off the grid to find a huckleberry. Probably, you should go armed. And, as I learned last year, a handheld GPS isn't a bad idea. I stopped at the market in Prospect one morning last summer, on my way up to the berries. There were two groups of Mexicans yaking while they picked up supplies. One was a firefighting crew and the other was a pot growing crew. I doubt if any of them knew the words to my corridos.