Tag Archives: marijuana

2591. Old Mrs Handisides’ garden

Old Mrs Handisides (Hannah to her friends although her real name was Allison) lived alone in a little cottage surrounded by what was once a cottage garden and now was a substantial plot of weeds. Once, a few years back, she had made an effort to do something with the garden, but she was not a gardener by nature. She had known a farmer up the road who let her collect buckets of cow manure which she spread on the garden. All that succeeded in doing was to propagate species of weeds that weren’t there before.

Mind you, having an unkempt plot of land didn’t stick out a mile in the neighbourhood. Most of those with some sort of lawn and garden space around their house had let things go more than a little bit. In fact, the street had quite a reputation.

Young Ocean McDonald lived with her parents next door to Old Mrs Handisides. She was all of twelve and interested in gardening. Unfortunately her parents had no garden whatsoever. Ocean McDonald visited Old Mrs Handisides and asked if she could have a little garden – on her side of the house – so they could see it from where they lived.

Old Mrs Handisides was delighted. “You can have as much garden as you like. And I’ll get you some pretty flowering plants you can use.”

“My father has already got me some flowers as well,” said Ocean. “So it’s all go.”

Within weeks the side garden was a picture. Ocean spread to the front of the house; and to the back of the house. It was a veritable symphony of colour! People would stop in the street and say WOW!  Sometimes Ocean McDonald’s father would come over and give his daughter a hand. He seemed as keen about gardening as his daughter. That was when the police came and arrested Old Mrs. Handisides for growing marijuana and opium poppies in her flower beds.

2190. The corrugated iron shed

You see the roof of that shed? It’s silver. I can just see it from my dining room window. My late husband planted those fast-growing trees quite a few years back to block the unsightly view of the corrugated iron shed. The elderly couple used to keep hay in the shed for their horses. They had two horses.

“It’s none of our business watching the neighbours feed their horses,” he used to say. “And the shed is unsightly. It ruins the view.”

With that, my husband planted the trees. They’re on our side of the fence. If the truth be told, it worked both ways. It stopped the elderly couple from looking up and into our dining room. Not that we were doing anything untoward. But it’s a question of privacy.

Well! The elderly couple died – as does happen – and the property was sold. It was bought by a couple of men who are – as Maggie from up the road says – “an interesting couple of blokes”. I’m not sure what goes on in that shed, but they ain’t got no horses.

Every day I curse my late husband for his lack of foresight when he planted those trees. Every day, around 11 o’clock, those two park their pickup just shy of the corrugated iron shed. They get out and go presumably into the shed. They’re there from several minutes to about an hour.

Maggie from up the road says they’ll be growing marijuana under artificial light, but I pointed out that it has a concrete floor and there didn’t seem to be any cables going into the shed for electricity. At least that was the case when I went down to the shed when those “interesting couple of blokes” were away for the day. Of course, the shed was locked, so I’m none the wiser.

Tomorrow’s a public holiday. They seem to go away on most public holidays. Goodness knows where to, although I have my suspicions. Maggie from up the road and I intend to go to the shed and find out what’s going on, once and for all. We’ll let you know.

1098. Neighbourhood watch

My neighbour works as a prostitute. Well, that’s a bit harsh; she’s a “call girl”. She must be all of thirty if you want to know, and she drives quite an expensive motor vehicle. So she must be doing quite well.

In between times, and goodness knows she seems to sleep in quite late, she sells marijuana to all the people who constantly visit. I can see them out my window. They’re all eager for the weed. They knock on her door with four taps, with a brief pause after the third. From my window I see things handed over, and then they’re back in their cars and off like a shot.

I know it is marijuana because she grows it just over the fence on her property at the bottom of the garden. I see it when I mow my lawn. I have no idea where she dries the stuff. Maybe in her garage or in her roof somewhere.

So both these activities keep her pretty busy, and no doubt rich: entertaining guests and selling dope. I know it keeps her busy because every time I’ve knocked four taps on her door she’s been too busy to see me.

407. Barry was a bit of a bastard


There’s no doubt that Barry could be a bit of a bastard at times.

He was a teacher, and sometimes he was real hard on the kids.

Barry got the sack. The school principal was a prick, but that still didn’t mean that Barry shouldn’t have got the sack. He was mean. He was devious. He was two-timing. He was a bully.

The principal was very proud of his school. Especially the look of it. The grounds. The gardens. The state of the buildings. He loved to show visitors around.

Why! Here comes the headmaster now, with a little group of prospective parents!

“What’s that growing beneath your office window?” asked a visitor.

“Flowers, beautiful flowers!” beamed the principal. “We take great pride in caring for the school.”

“It’s marijuana,” said the visitor.

As was said, there’s no doubt that Barry could be a bit of a bastard.

246. House in the woods


Occasionally Howard and Kent could be seen outside their house in the woods, but they were rarely home. They were always out. Even at nights they were seldom home. What busy social lives they must lead!

They rented their house from an old lady down the road. She was the perfect landlady, claimed Kent when he had an uncharacteristic conversation with a neighbour. She never calls in to inspect. As long as we pay the rent, she’s happy. And it’s just as well, added Howard, because we don’t keep a very tidy house.

In fact, the house must’ve been very untidy, for they never opened a single curtain. Everything was always closed.

On one occasion when Howard and Kent were home, neighbours Lynn and Gary decided to pay them a social call. It was the friendly thing to do. Instantly, Howard and Kent rushed out of the house and greeted them at the gate. Lynn and Gary never made it inside the home.

One day, the police arrived and raided the house. The entire place had been gutted and lined with silver foil. There was heating and artificial lighting. No one lived there at all. An old lady’s house was the perfect space to grow marijuana.