Just wondering how many of my friends and fam are keeping up with this oh-so-fascinating blogue. Better be all of you or I’ll torch you with a snide line that you’re not quite sure is directed at you. (It is.) My not so wee dearest one brought up ‘Black Tights Matter’ last evening which is one of my favorite posts that I introduced him to when I was trying to explain the Boomlennial blogue. Being that he was truly a wee dearest one when I started this geniuosness, he wasn’t aware of it. Not yet one of my millions of followers. I did have to confess, however, that I’m running out of material. Yes, me!!! It’s not that I don’t want to comment on everything. I know that the world is hanging on my every thought. It’s just that I’m more careful about who or what I offend. And in a social media world, you offend someone/everyone. Don’t take this wrong. I don’t care how unbrilliant and misinformed you are. I don’t care that you think it’s mostly sunny when I think it’s partly cloudy. I’m just tired of shaking my head. That’s why I grow weed. Just one plant. An no you can’t smoke it, or eat it, or harvest it. Just water it. I planted a bunch of wildflowers seeds in a basket in the spring. They were sprouting like crazy, and I was visiting them everyday to marvel at the wonder of nature. And then one day this thing just started growing. Fast. Overtaking the whole basket, and drooping by the end of the day. I was intrigued. What even is this thing? Pumpkin? Squash? Zombie baby? Nothing. Not a bud, flower, or mini fruit. Just a water sucking tall thing that killed the rest of the hatch. So yes. I am growing weed. Singular. When my not so wee one wants to talk Black Tights Matter, I can shoo him in the right direction and talk about growing weed. Who says I don’t have endless material? Not me!