He Grows What? And She Sells It?

26 January 2026

1147

R. Linda:

Where to begin? Crazy times make for crazy people and their choices. I live in a state where marijuana is not legal. But if you go to Maine, there are weed shops all over the place. Obviously, weed is legal there. With such a drug problem (fentanyl mainly) in the recreational state of New Hampshire, it is no wonder most are shy about legalising the recreational drug marijuana. So much for recreation. 

Anyway, you can imagine me surprise when, yesterday, in the midst of putting up the Christmas decorations (oh, don't get me started on THAT), the phone rang, and it was Tonya's Auntie Arlene. Now Tonya was in the attic with Guido, and to be honest, if I disturbed the putting away of decorations, they might not get put away. So reluctant to call Tonya to the phone, I told Auntie Arlene that Tonya was WAY UP in the attic, but she could chat with me while I put Christmas ornaments in boxes, and I'd relay any message she had for Missy Tonya. Well, the woman asked about the family and wanted pictures of the growing kiddos since she hadn't seen them in ages. I was thinking she's never seen any of them since they were born, but OK. Perhaps it is age, and she doesn't remember having seen any of them.

In turn, I asked about her not-so-wee ones, both adults and married with kiddos of their own. I was told that neither went to college and that both are doing well as a result. That gave me pause. College age was a long time ago, but OK. When did the subject of college come up? Had I missed something? She was talking about her grown kiddos, not her grandchildren. But if that referral was to NOW, I'd say, yeah, college doesn't guarantee a position anymore, but these people are around me age, which means when we were all college age, we either went or didn't. They did not, Tonya and I did. But to each his own, and I was a little confused as to where she was going with this. Why does that matter NOW?

Anyway, Auntie Arlene told me that her grandson and her daughter worked for the same establishment and had found their dream jobs (in spite of having no college for either (shrugging shoulders here)). I was thrilled for the mother and son. How nice, no college education and they made out anyway, bravo for them. Then Auntie Arlene said, "Yes, Jeffrey's a grower, and his mom sells it."

"What does he grow that she sells?" I asked, curious.

"He is a marijuana grower for the State of New Jersey, and she sells it."

At that time, both Guido and Tonya had come down for another load of Christmas decorations, and as I had the phone on speaker, they paused for a moment to listen. The accent is what got them both. Guido asked Tonya quietly, "Is that a New Jersey accent?" To which she nodded, and then quietly said to moi, "Is that Aunt Arlene?" To which I nodded, indeed, it was, you lucky girl!

Meanwhile, Auntie Arlene was expounding on how both had to take courses to get their certificates to grow and sell weed. This put Guido into fits of silent laughter as he went into the kitchen, unheard. This was all very interesting to him. He whispered so only Tonya and I could hear him, "I didn't know you could become a professional junkie supplier?"

As for Tonya, she was no better, holding her sides to keep from bursting out laughing; she thought it was crazy talk. Well, it could have been for all I knew. Auntie's conversation was subtly peppered with off-subject subjects! I felt like I was on a ride and had no clue where I'd end up. 

Auntie Arlene's daughter, as far as I knew, was a manager at a clothing store, doing very well, since she was a single mom raising Junior. I had no clue what Junior had been up to, but having seen pictures of him dressed rather strangely in high-fashion clothing, I was under the impression that his mother dressed him. I dunno. Was just weird.

To appreciate Tonya and Guido's reactions, you have to know that we are a non-tolerant of drugs family. If it isn't prescribed by the doctor, we don't indulge. We have seen too many drug deaths and been to too many funerals, so we don't see the good in masking reality when a sober reality keeps your brain functioning. Therefore, in experiencing life, we take the hurt with the laughter and appreciate the blessings we have, and instead of hiding from the negatives, we learn to deal with them and try to turn them into positive learning experiences.  

So, this conversation was different, to put it mildly. I wasn't about to hoist our beliefs on Auntie Arlene. If that is the life path chosen by Tonya's cousins, then so be it. No need to debate it. 

Then Auntie announces, "I'm a patriot!" 

I was confused because aren't we all? But then I realised she meant she was a Trumper. Well, OK, there, Auntie Arlene. This just made me realise I live in a different world. No one up here announces their political affiliation; you just "know" from how they talk and dress what they belong to. Then, to top it off, she said, "AND I believe in Jesus Christ!"

What was I, an Irish Catholic, to say to THAT? Well, I don't? Because that's not true. I thought perhaps this was really a one-upmanship conversation (onesided I will admit, as I wouldn't bite). I mean, she's entitled to her beliefs, but she must have decided that because I live in New England, my beliefs are the opposite of her own down in the Mid-Atlantic states? First, college; then weed; then political leanings; and finally, religious beliefs. 

Politics and religion don't mix, I always thought that. Who knew selling weed and college don't either? The worst kind of arguments are among family members over just those things. I gave over the phone to Tonya because I didn't know where Auntie was taking me. To drink most likely, and I don't do a whole lot of that, but now I be thinking because I'm Irish she must think naturally I be an alcoholic. 

I asked Tonya what the purpose of Auntie's call was besides giving me fodder for the blog. She said, "She wanted to stay in touch." 

"Well, OK. I thought it was all a bizarre howdy-do there, Tonya." I laughed.

"Yeah, I don't get the competition thing either, but I do remember when I lived in Jersey, everyone was very ambitious, dramatic and competitive. Nothing like the laid-back, mellow birds up here. So YOU got a taste of Jersey living." She said, laughing at me. 

And yes, yes, she is right. I know when the Dragon descends upon us, that mindset reigns until she leaves. She is always in competition with me little, apple-cheeked, grey-haired Mam when she's taken up residence. 

I have to wonder what I'd be like if I had moved to New Jersey instead of New Hampshire. I get shivers down me spine, just thinking about it. 

Gabe

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