“Hemp is strong. Sustainable. And slightly less dramatic than the cats in this house.”

-This Puzzled Life

Light the charcoal. Sprinkle the sage. If we’re going to honor National Hemp Month, we need the ancestors, the angels, and at least three bored saints on standby. The spirits of Southern chaos have already begun circling the living room like they’re waiting for a casserole to come out the oven. The energy in this house is already vibrating like a Dollar General ceiling fan on its last screw. And Piper has been pacing the hallway like she’s waiting for a verdict from the Supreme Court of Snacks.

The moment the sage smoke curled upward, Piper burst into the room wearing a bathrobe she absolutely stole from the clean laundry basket. 

She spoke like she was about to deliver a prophecy.

Piper: “Momma, it is Hemp Month. I have prepared a statement.”

Before I could respond, Coco slid in behind her like a baseball player stealing home. She was holding a bag of Temptations in her mouth like a union negotiator arriving with concessions. She mumbled through the bag.

Coco: “I’m here in solidarity, And also because I heard hemp can be used to make rope. And rope can be used to hang treat piñatas.”

From above us, on top of the fridge, Tinkerbell let out the kind of sigh that only a cat who has read the Constitution twice can produce.

Tinkerbell: “You two are embarrassing. Hemp is an agricultural commodity with a nuanced regulatory framework. Not a snack-based holiday.”

Piper gasped.

Piper: “Everything is a snack-based holiday if you believe hard enough.”

And that’s when I knew that this intro needed to be fortified. This month needed to be fortified. I needed to be fortified. So, I sprinkled more sage. A little more charcoal. And maybe a splash of holy water for good measure.

If National Hemp Month is going to happen in thishousehold, I’m going to need the strength of industrial hemp itself. It’s flexible. Resilient. And capable of withstanding the absolute foolishness of three feline revolutionaries who think they’re about to unionize the living room. And that’s just the intro.

I swear. I was just trying to light a candle and mind my business. And Piper came skidding into the kitchen like she’d been summoned by the Department of Agriculture itself.

Piper: “We must prepare the house.”

Coco peeked around the corner holding a bag of treats like a bribe. 

Coco: “I’m just here to support the movement and also to see if snacks are involved.”

Tinkerbell: “Both of you are unserious. Hemp is a versatile agricultural commodity with a complex regulatory history. And you, she pointed a paw at Piper, are wearing a cape made from a dish towel.”

Piper: “It’s ceremonial.” 

I tried to explain that National Hemp Month is about education, sustainability, and celebrating a plant that has been misunderstood more than a Southern woman who says, “I’m fine.” Piper had already declared herself Hemp Czar and was marching through the house inspecting imaginary crops.

Coco: “Do hemp farmers get snacks? Because I’m willing to pivot careers.”

Tinkerbell rolled her eyes so hard I heard it.

Tinkerbell: “Hemp is federally legal, Coco. You don’t get snacks for following the law.”

Coco: “Then what’s the point?” 

Tinkerbell cleared her throat like she was about to read from the Book of Revelation.

Tinkerbell: “Under the 2018 Farm Bill, hemp was federally legalized as long as it contains no more than 0.3 percent THC. States regulate production through USDA-approved plans. And farmers must test crops to ensure compliance. Some states are stricter. Some are looser. And all of them are confused. Hemp is legal. But only if it behaves.”

Piper: “So if the hemp gets too excited, it becomes a criminal?”

Tinkerbell: “Yes. Just like you after 9 p.m.”

I tried to bring the energy back to something wholesome.

Me: “Let’s honor the plant. Let’s celebrate sustainability, fiber, textiles, and-”

But Piper cut me off.

Piper: “Momma, I have prepared a speech.”

She climbed onto the coffee table. Cleared her throat. And declared,

Piper: “Hemp is the fabric of our future. Also, I request a hemp hammock, a hemp scratching post, and a hemp crown.”

Coco clapped

Coco: “I second the crown.”

Tinkerbell stared at me like, “This is your circus. These are your monkeys.”

By the end of the night, Piper had drafted a “Hemp Bill of Rights.” Coco had eaten half a bag of treats in the name of activism. And Tinkerbell had filed three formal complaints with the imaginary Feline Ethics Committee.

And me? I blew out the sage. Looked at my household of furry legislators. And whispered, “Lord, give me the strength of industrial hemp to withstand the foolishness of this house.” Curtain closed. Hemp Month survived. Thanks for reading! Stay educated. What do you think about the current legislation regarding hemp?

Affirmation: “I honor the plant. Embrace the chaos. And stay grounded even when my cats form a hemp committee without my consent.”

***Don’t forget to watch the video!***

#ThisPuzzledLife