Emilya Green
Well-Known Member
With my profound apologies to Clement Moore, I give you my version of his poem:
Twas the night before Harvest, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The wires for drying were hung with much care,
In hopes that the buds would soon dry in the air.
The buds would be stored, all snug in their jars,
While visions of a perfect cure danced inside ours.
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.
When down in the basement there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the stairs I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door, and ran to our stash.
A fan had malfunctioned and the temperature was low,
Giving a sick ugly look to the plants down below.
When did it start? What was now happening?
Something was wrong, something was clattering.
I leaped down the stairs, taking three at a time,
Something bad was occurring, something misaligned.
More frantic than a rock band, the noise kept occurring,
Getting louder and louder, never deterring.
Attacking the first fan, I pushed and I poked,
Could it be you who is the cause of this smoke?
Not finding the answer, I turned to the next,
It was there that I found it, the cause of this mess.
The dust and the grime of several years service,
had taken its tole, without giving notice.
The fan was a gonner, a blade had poked through.
It needed replacement, with one much more new.
So the fan was replaced with a spare kept on hand
and with the holiday crop properly fanned,
I went upstairs to rest for the Harvest,
and wondered if this would be one of my largest.
The next morning we admired the crop,
and inspected the buds from bottom to top.
Some were bigger and juicier than the rest,
and we knew that this time, it was some of the best!
I thought of the taste. I dreamed of the smell.
But I knew it would take time to tell...
The first step would be cutting and hanging buds around,
to sit in the dark till proper crispness was found.
With Christmas cheer in our hearts we called all our friends,
A trimming party! The reward at the end!
Our friends gathered, and helped trim the stash,
For hours and hours we worked and we laughed.
So we trimmed and we hung, and we weighed and we cut
and filled with buds, our special drying hut.
It was a dark little place where we put our new crop.
To snap but not break was the point we would stop.
We had fun and we joked as we trimmed the buds,
and carefully inspected each of the nugs.
Snipping fan and sun leaves steadily we went,
Harvest day is always a fun time spent!
It's all now in jars, and sealed for the cure,
Enhancing the taste and potency, for sure.
Another crop is in, and it is a joyous sight,
Happy Harvest to all, and to all a good-night!
Happy Harvests and a safe and happy holiday season to you and yours, no matter how you celebrate! From my house and the many paths we honor to yours:
Yuletide blessings, Happy Hanukkah and a very Merry Christmas!
Be well everyone,
Emilya
Twas the night before Harvest, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The wires for drying were hung with much care,
In hopes that the buds would soon dry in the air.
The buds would be stored, all snug in their jars,
While visions of a perfect cure danced inside ours.
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.
When down in the basement there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the stairs I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door, and ran to our stash.
A fan had malfunctioned and the temperature was low,
Giving a sick ugly look to the plants down below.
When did it start? What was now happening?
Something was wrong, something was clattering.
I leaped down the stairs, taking three at a time,
Something bad was occurring, something misaligned.
More frantic than a rock band, the noise kept occurring,
Getting louder and louder, never deterring.
Attacking the first fan, I pushed and I poked,
Could it be you who is the cause of this smoke?
Not finding the answer, I turned to the next,
It was there that I found it, the cause of this mess.
The dust and the grime of several years service,
had taken its tole, without giving notice.
The fan was a gonner, a blade had poked through.
It needed replacement, with one much more new.
So the fan was replaced with a spare kept on hand
and with the holiday crop properly fanned,
I went upstairs to rest for the Harvest,
and wondered if this would be one of my largest.
The next morning we admired the crop,
and inspected the buds from bottom to top.
Some were bigger and juicier than the rest,
and we knew that this time, it was some of the best!
I thought of the taste. I dreamed of the smell.
But I knew it would take time to tell...
The first step would be cutting and hanging buds around,
to sit in the dark till proper crispness was found.
With Christmas cheer in our hearts we called all our friends,
A trimming party! The reward at the end!
Our friends gathered, and helped trim the stash,
For hours and hours we worked and we laughed.
So we trimmed and we hung, and we weighed and we cut
and filled with buds, our special drying hut.
It was a dark little place where we put our new crop.
To snap but not break was the point we would stop.
We had fun and we joked as we trimmed the buds,
and carefully inspected each of the nugs.
Snipping fan and sun leaves steadily we went,
Harvest day is always a fun time spent!
It's all now in jars, and sealed for the cure,
Enhancing the taste and potency, for sure.
Another crop is in, and it is a joyous sight,
Happy Harvest to all, and to all a good-night!
Happy Harvests and a safe and happy holiday season to you and yours, no matter how you celebrate! From my house and the many paths we honor to yours:
Yuletide blessings, Happy Hanukkah and a very Merry Christmas!
Be well everyone,
Emilya
Merry Christmas everyone! I wish you all happy harvests and the very best of everything in the upcoming year!
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Well done.
