Chex-mix and Chillum…
When Old Man Gunderson retires to his cabin in the woods high up in the Sierra Nevadas, he only needs a few things. His trusty dog Frank, his Stetson hat, his insulin to control his diabeetus, his mustache comb and of course his artisanally made chillum and classic rolling tray by Maïtri.
He likes to wake up early, when the sun is just peaking over the ridgeline and the ducks are skimming across the lake. The smell of pine and premium Kush permeate the morning air, and that’s just the way he likes it. With his rolling tray in his lap and his dog by his side, Old Man Gunderson packs his chillum with the concentrated zeal of a man who knows what he wants and spent a lifetime earning it. He takes a deep inhale because he doesn’t do anything half assed, except maybe his diet, which was never really good. Lots of red meats and pies and butterscotch candy. He made no bones about it though. He lived life on his terms.
He retreated to the woods where he could smoke his herb in peace and break buds over his favorite rolling tray. He even carved his initials into it “O.M.G” and showed it to Frank his dog who just tilted his head in confusion. The ducks mock him with their quacks and the creaks of the old cabin drive him nearly mad. A few hits of the chillum should make things ok though. He settles into his rocking chair and looks over his kingdom. Soon he will be hungry again and he will want pie but the doctor warned him against eating sweets. “Why does the simple life have to be so darn complicated?,” he whispers to the cold mountain air after letting out a deep smoky exhale.
