A well-balanced flower indeed. I’ve had a fraught relationship with Marijuana, as I’ve come to learn over the years that it’s directly incompatible with my low simmering anxiety and often exacerbates the stress that the flower is ordinarily used to quell. When I tried Mom Grass, it was a different story. As I lit a candle, cracked a window, and dressed in clothes that I planned to immediately throw in the hamper to mask the stench, I was transported to a different time. Maybe not a friend’s garage, like my Dad might have been, but to a nostalgic time when passing around a joint with friends was something to look forward to, not an experience you might come to quickly regret. To my surprise, not only was there no lingering stench, but I enjoyed the best effects of getting high — slowing down for the ritual and feeling at ease — without that sense of being totally out of control. Initially, I felt like something was missing. I could hold a conversation and every creak in the floorboards didn’t leave me with an impending sense of doom. Then I realized, this is how it should be.