The day started with a change of plans for Missy. Claire is getting her another grooming appointment at Wag N’ Wash after her previous spa adventure at Petco ended early. Missy made her opinion known, and I had to go pick her up. Whether it was the unfamiliar groomer, the environment, or a combination of factors, she clearly wasn’t having it. For now, she has a new appointment on the calendar and a chance for a fresh start.
As for me, my left hamstring woke up determined to be noticed. It has been making itself well known all morning, so I fired up the heating pad on the warm setting. That simple bit of heat felt pretty awesome and reminded me that sometimes recovery means listening instead of pushing.
I had thoughts of taking a nap. The last two days didn’t go well in that department. The sativa had me in project mode instead of rest mode, so this morning I left it alone and visited my Roxanne bud cone joint from yesterday. There are still a session or two left in it.
Then the weeds happened.
One minute I was considering a nap. The next minute I was outside spraying both the front and backyard with Weed B Gon Max. So much for sleeping. The Reclamation Department was called into action.
That led, of course, to a full lawn inspection. There are two kinds of walks through a yard: walking through the yard and inspecting the yard. I was definitely inspecting. Every patch of grass, every weed, every bare spot got a second look. Two weeks after the initial seed and fertilizer application, the backyard is beginning to look solid. Progress is slow, but it is there.
That got me thinking about reclamation again.
The backyard project is reclamation. The Tire ReclamationProjects is reclamation. Recovery after a brain injury and stroke is reclamation. Even using a heating pad to settle down a complaining hamstring feels like a small act of reclamation.
Is it a bad thing to have a sense of reclamation?
I don’t think so.
A sense of reclamation is simply the belief that something worn down, damaged, neglected, or interrupted can still become something useful, meaningful, or beautiful. It isn’t about pretending damage never happened. It’s about refusing to let damage have the final word.
Looking back, I also reflected on my return to cannabis after the stroke. There were sixty days under intensive medical supervision where cannabis wasn’t part of my life. When I
, I already had my return planned out. I had been honest with the medical staff the entire way, and no one seemed particularly concerned. Recovery came first. Cannabis came later.
I’m old school when it comes to cannabis. I still look at the plant itself. Leaf structure, growth patterns, and the physical characteristics tell a story. Long before labels, THC percentages, and marketing names, growers learned to read the plant.
Now here I am at 10:11 in the morning and sitting pretty on my schedule.
The hamstring has been heated.
The weeds have been sprayed.
The lawn has been inspected.
Missy’s next spa appointment is booked.
As for the nap?
We’ll see.
No pressure.
If it happens, great. If not, it’s already been a productive morning in the ongoing reclamation project known as life.
BenJammin 🪨
Rock Solid Since ’93
It’s My Life 
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