Cookies and Pot

Ten years ago, or so, Francie’s Magic Cookies were happening. They were in eleven Whole Foods, they were flying off the shelves and creating magic…yes, for real. Their first incarnation was seven flavors, in alignment with the chakras….peanut butter for grounding, chocolate for sex, toffee granola for empowerment, coconut for love, butterscotch for communication, cinnmon toast for intuition and white chocolate for enlightenment. 

Human beings and their stories. People lined up to not only sample and buy but for cookie counseling…Endless sagas on the trials and tribulations of all things connected with my cookie themes. The flavors grew and grew to match the connundrums, to TWENTY-SIX. I was famous. The cookies were not only the most amazing confection imagineable, but each one also delivered its promised magic magnificently, AND THEN  Whole Foods decided to steal them. Yes. At the very time that their CEO was traversing the country promoting his book on conscious capitalism. So much for integrity.

Somewhere in the mix of this drama I stumbled into a pot shop, unbeknownst to me that that’s what it was, as I thought that I was entering a psycodelic art gallery. After a rather marvelously hilarious introduction and stoned gobble gobble of my entire basket of cookies, 

I was awarded a medical pot pass. My cookies were now about to morph: Coconut Concious Expanders, Peanut Butter MInd Benders, Chocolate Mystical Lift Offs and on and on, and as their persona was in transiition, so was mine…fare thee well Whole Foods and Tra-lalaaaaaa to this new laughter and tear laden land.

What I had not known was that pot seeps in through the skin and so baking became something highly emotional and unpredictable, depending on the specifi pot in hand. Highs, lows, I had no idea there were such variances, but whilst baking the evidence was clear, and I hate to admit that the cookies had to make themselves, which they managed to do, while I danced and cavoted and sobbed without having any idea WHY, until suddenly I did.

Rubber gloves became a necessary utensil and serenity in the kitchen restored….in moderation. The life of this new version of Francie’s magic Cookies was cut short when LA closed all shops related to marijuana…sigh….hmmmm…that was then, what about now? 

One never knows about anything, does one?

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