Thursday Pot Thoughts: Volume 7

As I sit here, reading through the screen shots of cell phones playing pranks on parents, this blog is nagging at the back of my head. It is Thursday again folks, and we all know what that means. Sweet Mary Kane is going to let the crazy ooze from her fingertips. Letting the crazy out is always better than letting the crazy in and you’re the one who is reading this. I’m just saying.


It’s not that I don’t want to write my blog anymore. It’s more that, with so much going on lately, it’s too loud in here to sort all out and get it down with any kind of clarity. And by here I mean in my mind. Though technology … Oh how I love thee, Oh how I hate thee … I’m certain contributes to the rapid pace of my life. In fact, the prank I’m scrolling through now came to me just that way. I couldn’t tell you who’s feed or which platform it came from yet here I am reading it.


The prank I am referring to is one in which teens sent a text to their parental figures that read “Got 2 grams for 40$?!”  Followed by the text “Never mind, that wasn’t for you.”. The responses are amusing. One individual evidently has his mother fooled as she buys it when he replies “Grammar Books” and she offers up more money. I wonder how I would respond. I suppose that I would wonder why they didn’t just ask me.  Then again I tend to over think so perhaps I would take it as a question rather than a declaration, after all punctuation containing both an exclamation point and a question mark seems to me to swing either way.


Set the pranks aside and focus on the kids. Which sorts of things do I provide my children in terms of education of Cannabis? What information did my parents give me? What information did my parents have? Where am I going to get more information? It’s a whole new landscape forming right before my eyes, and it is marvelous. I am so honored and truly highly favored to be able to bear witness to its evolution. I can’t wait to see what’s next. My sincerest gratitude to you all.


Sweet Mary Kane



Any outlandish headline will do, after all. I cringe at the horrid headlines that could be used swirling around my head. There is a positive outcome yet to be discovered! I tell myself. Denver, Colorado. Civic Center Park. 4/20/2013. Shots fired.



What a blessing of a day today. I am so ecstatic to rally with my brothers and sisters and revel in the joys we share and love we hold. Today is the day that we can all say we have worked hard, we have organized, we have spoken up, we have done a good job Bob Saget and WE DESERVE A BREAK! We gather and we meet and share. Stories, spliffs, ourselves, our dreams and passions, more simply love.

I woke up early to a magnificent sun shining through the windows. Just in time for breakfast, which being that all I had to do was walk down the hall and the inn keeper prepared me as much coffee and fresh fruit topped French toast as I could take, was marvelous itself. 

I dressed myself comfortably and decided to bring Sweet Mary Kane herself out to play. Then off I went on my dearest arm (which by the way is my favorite spot to be) to the High Times Cannabis Cup. Superb time, of course, however I just cannot pass up that 420 in the park count down. It has long been my favorite moment, to be among so many of my brothers and sisters who share the same desire for Cannabis freedom as myself. In that moment I don’t care if your opinions are strictly medical or recreational, your preferred structure of regulation, I don’t care if you have a beer in your hand while you’re shouting it. All I care is that you are standing with me shoulder to shoulder and WE are standing up and crying out against this injustice together. All of us. Oh and bonus, by the way, while we’re doing it lets share a doobie.


Civic Center Park 420 Rally 2013

Civic Center Park 420 Rally Denver, CO 2013

At the 420 Rally, for the most part, my closest friends cross my path. There is good music. The crowd is unbelievable. From behind the stage I scan the faces in the crowd trying to take in all in. The diversity across all platforms, sex, age, race, is incredible. I am well medicated. My gratitude and appreciation grows as I blaze. I am full, for lack of a better word to describe how overjoyed I am. I am love at loves greatest. I am.


Present time:

Back in my room I prepare to shower, nap, and get up for a night out. I am daydreaming about how wonderful my life with Mr. Kane is when the news that there has been a shooting reaches me. It feels as though I have only just left and my soul flinches.  

I am heart broken. I am angry. I am outraged. I am sad. I am grateful. I am joyful. I am love. I call to all the media to react to this incident rather than over react. Do not misunderstand me. There is no intention to simply brush this incident under a rug or say that it is of no important. My sincerest wishes for the best care and a quick recovery go to the victims and the witnesses. I pray that everyone minds be well taken care of and all need are met be they psychological or physical. With that said (and having left the park just before the shots were actually fired) I also pray to see the media take their time in writing and let the investigation develop before pinning it on pot. 

And to the shooter: I don’t know you and I’m sorry you felt like you had to do what you did, but I am really really upset with you right now and even though I love you and I hope you get the help you need I want you to get a long sentence. Jah knows our Cannabis POWs are getting longer than they deserve for victim-less crimes and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. 


When I was a very small girl in a primary school classroom I came the to conclusion that feminism had screwed up the world for me and I have never convinced myself otherwise. Well that’s not entirely true as I am truly blessed to live the life I do so I wouldn’t describe it as ‘screwed up’ now. Never the less I haven’t given up my distaste for feminism.

You may have noticed a lot of ‘women power’ chatter in the news, social media feeds, and on the tongues of your female companions lately. I’ve noticed it too. I took note of a plethora of complaining about inequality and negative focus on the topic. Where was the celebration of women? Why didn’t the announcement of Michelle Johnson’s nomination for first ever female Superintendent of AFA appear in the social feed? Where were the stories of recognition for the women in our own lives?

I can’t pinpoint any one thing that lead me to believe that the feminist movement was doing it wrong. I have seen both sides of the fence however. I served a decade as both mom and dad, working full time and probably paid less than a male counter part would have been. All while burdened with all the same responsibilities I have now. Which makes for a 5:30 – Midnight work day, seven days a week. Women are extremely resilient and will always come through and do what they have to do. Currently I am a ‘housewife’ so to speak, minus the wedding part, and I don’t make a dime doing it, but I am elated to have such favor.

Have you ever introduced yourself to an extreme feminist as a housewife? I wouldn’t recommend it unless you’d like a lecture, but even persons who wouldn’t associated themselves with the feminist movement will quickly turn their nose down at you. As though I am less of a person for choosing not to have a paying occupation, although I get the impression that their attitude stems from the assumption that I don’t work. Well let me tell you, I WORK. I work my buns off, laundry, dishes, ceilings to floor boards, cooking, shopping, homework, academic and social education, researcher, and activist are just a few of the duties I have every single day without pay. No days off, no scheduled lunch break, no union, no employee of the month awards, and no financial compensation.

How the hell could she recognize all that and still have hard feelings for feminism you’re asking yourself. I ask myself the same questions sometimes.

Here is the thing. I belong here. I am all the things I need to be when I need to be them. My ‘job’ is so important that I wouldn’t take money to do it. I support all the people around me and I lift them up when they need a hand. I am an incredible support team. I shouldn’t be looked at like an idiot for doing my job. I shouldn’t be judged and labeled for my choice. If the world pays men more than women I say fantastic! Pay them two salaries! Particularly if they have a team member supporting their functionality from behind the scenes. The idea that I can work and be a mother/wife/cook/chauffeur/teacher/house keeper/assistant is pathetic. If feminist were truly working to better life for women they would stop focusing on eye for and eye equality and realize that changes have to be made. Why the devil would anyone want to earn the same as a man when going to work? If I’m going to give up time I could be spending on the things that truly matter like my family, home, friends, etc I want double the pay or it’s not worth it.

Oh and one more thing directly to the women of the world. Stop picking on each other, its self defeating, ignorant, and unladylike.

Thursday Pot Thoughts: Volume 5

Why is it that life seems to throw everything at you at once? I had plenty of time to write my blog this week until I took on four document projects with imminent deadlines. Two power points, a slideshow/movie, and a PDF later my eye balls are rolling around in my head. Staring at this screen my eyes are playing tricks on me. Yet I feel a responsibility to get out this blog, if only I can make it before that midnight EST so its still Thursday in the US at least. While it would have been nice for everything to come at me slower, maybe a project every few days with deadlines at least two weeks out, I wouldn’t change my life for the world.


I seriously just nodded off at the keyboard so I’m just going to leave you guys with 10 facts … you’ll get over it.


1. I believe that the prohibition of Cannabis is L.O.N.G. overdue to be lifted.

2. I would rather hear “Fuck YOU MOM!” from my kids than “I hate you.”

3. I believe in reincarnation 

4. In Shakespeare’s time, mattresses were secured on bed frames by ropes. When you pulled on the ropes the mattress tightened, making the bed firmer to sleep on. That’s where the phrase, “goodnight, sleep tight” came from.
5. It’s not that I hate gaga, I’d just rather her go away now.
6.One in three dog owners say they have talked to their pets on the phone.
7. I’ve lost 52 lbs since moving to Denver.
8. In Oregon they list the hair color you were born with on your drivers license. In Colorado they have a bald option.
9. The DMV employee still asked me what I wanted to list as my hair color.
10. If you put a raisin in a glass of champagne, it will keep floating to the top and sinking to the bottom.

One Love ~



Dear Cannabis: Will you be mine?


Valentine that is, when I say to you “be mine” I do not me that I should own you. You bring me the type of joy one can’t hide behind sunglasses. Give me such wealth of love its abundance overflows from my soul. And I would have to say this is one of those open type relationships. Not open like I don’t care who else you see but open like I trust you and I don’t care who else you see, as long as you see me.


Cannabis, you have saved me from myself a time or two. Relieved my own pain on numerous occasions and so much more. Your potential amazes me. I look forward to discovering more about you as we grow old together. The number of ailments and people you have helped is astounding. You inspire me to be a better me.


I promise to, maintain integrity, moderately educate, investigate science, assert my voice to our elected officials, exhibit professionalism, and manifest global quality of life improvement while showing my support for you. I want to be your valentine every day.


All my love,


Sweet Mary Kane

Is she going to do it?


Is she going to miss a blog post –  not one, but TWO weeks in a row!? Well, yes. Almost? Kind of.

There seems to be so many things as of late that I want to say. Things I love, things I’ve just discovered, things that amaze me, intrigue me, fascinate and inspire me. Small things. Things that frustrate me. Things that make me happy. Random things and focused things. Some how, altogether, nothing at all. And that is why this is not a real blog post.

I have a tendency to write in a sort of erupting fashion. I ruminate for days, sometimes weeks, quietly about something and then I sit down with a joint and it oozes out of my finger tips. I pause to smoke, and I smile at Bob Marley on the wall next to me. I breath deeply. I shut my eyes sometimes. I look back at the screen and start to nitpick, but remind myself to read the sign on the wall Write First. Edit Later. I know the sign is lying to me, I won’t have time to ‘edit later’. I smoke, and I write. I occasionally feel disassociated as though my fingers and my mind are working together from different planets.   I have been interrupted with the question “What is your blog about this week?” And been unable to respond without pulling the blog up to check. I love it. When I have something to say and my fingers just has to sprinkle the keyboard with some message I love it. Today, however, that is less than true.

Today I don’t have that ‘urge’ to write. Believe me, it is not a lack of medication either. I’m perplexed by the change. Is it just that I missed last week? Am I simply exhausted and something has got to give? I don’t know what it is, but nothing can change that it’s my thing and sometimes I love the blazes out of this thing so I will fight for it.

So there it is. Thoughtless. Written. Published. Amateur. You’re welcome.

The only thing that is different this week is I don’t have a message or a story really. If I had to pick out a message, I suppose it would be to take better care of yourself and do the things that you want to do that you love to do because now is your time. Now is my time. Right now, is the only time.

One Love ~ SMK


Thursday Pot Thoughts: Volume 4 (not twenty … yet).

I may have told you guys this story before, but it has been on my mind lately a lot, so I’m going to talk about it. One night this summer my whole family was piled in the car on our way up the interstate heading home. Just before a white SUV whizzed past us my boyfriend said “Look at this guy!” We were traveling at least 75 mph maybe 80 mph even, and that vehicle just blew by us like we were at a stand still. Within seconds I muttered “He’s going to lose control of that vehicle.” pointing at it as I watched it began to shudder during a lane change. Sure enough we saw it head sharply toward the median and then back toward the center lane. Did they hit the wall? I thought.

We all smelled it before we saw the break lights and in an instant were at a dead stop. It seemed like eons before my brain pieced it together. What do you see? The SUV is stopped at an angle in the center lane. I cannot see drivers side. Did they hit the median? There’s a body in the road.WHAT!? There is a body in the road. Where did it come from? The windows are all intact. Slow motion set in as the gears in my mind turned trying to solve the puzzle. And then it happened, the SUV pulled forward 100 yards into the left lane. There was a motorcycle under the SUV. You don’t have your phone. “HAZARDS!” I declared “I don’t have a phone, find yours and call 911.” I’m out of the car. “Stay in the car.” I say to the back seat in a tone no child would ever question. I’m dressed for a birthday party, but I jog toward the injured man in my heels regardless. Not everyone is stopping. He lifts he head up and makes eye contact with me as I approach. I’m almost to him when he reaches for the face mask he was wearing. He’s not wearing a helmet. “SirPlease do not move.” I instruct him. I know he comprehends me because he immediately puts his arm back at his side and his forehead to the street. “I am a CNA!” I hear a young woman exclaim. I tag out. KIDS!Not everyone is stopping! My head is battling itself with priorities. PLATE!

“Get the plate,” I hear my boyfriend call as if we’re having the same experience. I turn back to get the number only to find it’s brand new and the tinted windows are too dark to read the temporary tag. I dash back to the car and ask the man parked behind me not to move his car. He is a prison security guard in uniform, he agrees. I look at the faces of my children. They are wide eyed but not hysterical. I hold up one finger and nod at them, they nod back. Traffic already direct the traffic!  I couldn’t honestly say how we communicated, hand signals, yelling, telepathically, I think it was probably all of the above, but my boyfriend and I took up the traffic controlling. Miracle! We are in line with an on-ramp and an ambulance just happens to be heading up it. Maybe three minutes have passed. The sun is setting. From no where a man jumps over the median and begins running at us. He doesn’t make it to me before my boyfriend intervenes. He is dressed in biker clothing. The man was waiting to meet his friend who never arrived. We send him to the hospital. He verifies that is indeed his missing friends bike.

My boyfriend manages to close off the left side of the highway with the help of other drivers forming a blockade with us. I am stopping and starting traffic from the right lane into the on ramp lane where they can get around the accident if no one is coming up the ramp. I have no means to block this route, other than my body, which loses in a fight to a car every time. A car comes speeding up the on-ramp, and I gasp. They hit no one. My boyfriend comes to my aid and begins directing the oncoming ramp traffic to slow down. We have no flares. They can’t see him. Another car zooms past as he raises his arms, willing them to slow down. He’s going to try to cross. I hear the engine revving up before I even see the black coupe, but I can’t see the driver. I’m fixated on my boyfriend who has stepped out in front of this car to get it’s attention. Time froze, and I saw every possibility in that moment. My brain flashed threw clip after clip of outcomes until my mind zeroed in on the one that it wanted. He twisted and leapt into a matrix fast float out of harms way. We don’t jump that way, people only move that way in the movies, but he did. Safety praise Jah! The car slowed and missed the EMTs also.

Abruptly traffic from both directions stopped. Ten minutes have passed. Police have arrived and shut down the interstate. I am so relieved to be back in the car with my children. My boyfriend is running around talking to other witnesses and police. You should have taken pictures before they moved him. I grab my tablet and snap a picture of the bike as it lie in from my car door. I want my boyfriend to get back in the car. He doesn’t. The officers inform us that the driver had been apprehended a quarter of a mile up the interstate where they lost control of the vehicle. They had not hit anyone else. Three more hours pass before we are told they will call the officer on the on ramp and let him know we’re coming down. It’s well past the hour for bed on a school night. They don’t call and we can’t pass the squad car without it moving. The officer gets out of his car and is approaching ours swiftly pulling his mag-lite from his belt as he does. “Where did you come from?” he shines the light on us and heads back to move his car without listening to our explanation.

The next day I Google search the accident. I find two links that seem to reference the accident but when I click them the both redirect me to an ‘article has been removed’ page. In the following weeks I searched several times over and came up with zip. Who the devil was in that SUV? I can not even find out if the man survived. I give up. I resign that whoever was driving that SUV was important enough to be protected and so I would never find anything more out. I don’t search it and I forget the date for months.

Then suddenly I begin remembering the man’s face clear as day, the perplexity in his eyes. I remember thinking how much worse his internal injuries must have been at that speed than what his outward physique revealed. What did you say to him? I wish that I would have said “Sir, my name is Sweet Mary Kane and I am here to help you. Please attempt to lay still in case you have a spinal injury. Someone is calling 911 right now.” I wish that I would have offered more comfort than “Sir. Please don’t move.” I wish I could have asked his name and sent flowers. You wish you knew if he made it. That’s true. Perhaps today is the day I Google it again.