Grandmas, Grandpas, Mom & Dad Stories

musashi

musashi

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We are off with great fun talking about grandma and grandpa in another thread, I figured a tribute thread dedicated to our elders could probably yield some great stories of happiness as well as sadness, stories about life and the good ole days. So let er rip!

mu
 
My Grandmother told me that she had been kicked in the head by a mule as a child. She was unconscious for 3 days and when she woke up she said she never shit right for the rest of her life!

Maybe a recessive gene because I don't have it. I'm full of :poop:!

Longball
 
The first time I smoked with with my Grandma, something I never thought would happen, she kept hitting Ghost Train Haze shatter like it was nothing. I was fighting a whitey and tapped out, but she kept asking for more!

Btw. She's told me since, that it took her whole life to realize Ganga's a medicine. She hadn't really smoked it much. She's all about it now though lol. She even pulled out a Christmas blunt this year to share with me. 🤣

Diesel840
 
Many years ago our family went back to the Islands for a reunion. While the women were in the kitchen chattering and preparing food. The men outside gathered the pig for the luau. I had the honor of sticking the pig. Then Grandma with her usual red betel mouth began pouring hot water on the pig and shaving it with a machete. She gutted it all by herself. Once prepared, the men lowered the pig into the ground where buried, it cooked all day.
Lots of people were invited. Not enough room inside, food was set outside on banana leaves and it was there that the feasting began.

mu
 
By what I've heard, back in the day no one messed with my grandma. My aunt told me the best story about when she was a teenager. My grandma was showering and heard the voice of my aunts boyfriend. She jumped out of the shower, grabbed a cast iron skillet, then chased the cheating beating bastard up the streets while butt ass naked! No towel, nothing just a frying pan and a protective mother in a wet birthday suit!

Diesel840
 
At one of my grandmothers funeral’s my Dad was given a black velvet bag full of rings. I asked him about them and he said in the depression people used to come to their farm and ask for a cow or food etc and they would give her their wedding rings or engagement rings etc, for the food as that’s all they had. She kept all the rings to give back when times were better but some never came back. Her husband, my grandfather, milled a lot of timber, mostly Kauri, he was caught in circular saw and cut down his right shoulder and into his side almost cutting his arm off but was stitched or put all back together looked all gammy but had some use of it for decades until he died he drank a lot for the pain old cannabis would’ve helped him I reckon.
 
I remember old Tom Robinson had a sheep farm next door to ours. Every Christmas he would meet my father at the fence with an old barren ewe as a gift. And every year a few days later Dad would give him the same sheep back again. It went on for years. Probably the same sheep as well.
 
My grandmother (Baba in our language) was born in the Balkans during the last years of the Ottoman Empire and remembered the Turks coming to their small village to collect taxes which in those days were a percentage of the crops they grew. I remember her telling my mother how the grownups would have hiding places to hide some of the crops so the Turks would not get as much. She also disliked alcohol and cigarettes even though they grew tobacco there. She was also the best gardener you can imagine and spent much of her day hoeing, watering and weeding in her garden. Keep in mind that what I am about to relate was over 40 years ago when our favorite flower was a hard drug in many people’s and the law’s minds. I told her that our government was the modern day Turks and that reefer was our crop to hide from them. She was all for it and grew two of the hugest plants from Hawaiian seeds that I’ve ever seen. I showed her how to bend and tie/train them and she loved doing so. She told my mother that she thought that they were very pretty plants and she liked growing them. My grandfather had passed many years before but I had found out that as a young boy he was courier for the revolutionaries in the uprisings. He knew the mountain paths and the main leader was his school teacher. No wonder I am how I am…
 
Hey all. I posted this a while back in my Medicine Man thread. Figured I'd put it here with every one elses great stories.


I rolled a jay of what I think was pheno #5, then picked up my grandma for a drive. She took a couple of deep drags from the jay, then killed almost an entire cheeseburger and basically chugged an entire vanilla shake. Much more than she normally eats. Something of which she commented on.

While I finished my food, she mused aloud whether the car in front of us was getting broken into, then was quickly distracted by the clouds.

Once we were both done eating we went for a bit of a drive. It was wonderful being able to hear the smile in her voice as she talked about the drive.

Eventually, I had to drop her off. I got her back into her wheelchair and she fished a cigarette out of her purse. While she flicked at her cig, gazing dreamily into the trees, she told me how sleepy the Medicine Man had made her. I hugged and told her that's the point.

I am so happy to have shared that time with her and to be able to help, even if just a bit. I promised her we'd go out again on a similar outing in a few weeks.

Diesel840
 
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