Page 5 of Hope After Loss

We reach the barn, and I introduce her to Rich, the manager, and Edward, the foreman.

The two of them take the time to explain how we feed the crops organic nutrients and water straight from the stream running off the mountain. They go over the soil test we conduct to make sure we don’t strip the natural resources of the land since she’ll be handling all the reports and paperwork.

Then, I show her around the planting fields and drying shed, and she continues to ask questions.

“Okay, so what is the difference between these plants and marijuana plants?”

I chuckle. “Hemp and marijuana are the same species of plant. The main difference is the amount of a particular cannabinoid compound each of them contains.”

“So, science says they’re the same, but the law says they’re different,” she surmises.

“Exactly. The key difference is the level of THC content, and THC is just one of many cannabinoids found in the plants. The hemp name is used to signify cannabis that contains zero-point-three percent or less of THC content per dry weight.”

“So, when people say marijuana, they are talking about any plant that has more THC than that per dry weight?”

“That’s right. The product can vary. Some strains of cannabis are bred to be higher in THC than others. Each plant has its own characteristics and psychoactive effects.”

“You mean, some get you higher faster than others,” she clarifies.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you don’t grow that type of cannabis here?”

“Some states allow the higher-content strains to be grown for medical and recreational use. Some allow it for only medical use. Then, you have the states where it is completely illegal, and Tennessee is one of them. We are only allowed to grow the strains that contain zero-point-three percent THC. So, to answer your question, no, we don’t grow marijuana here—not on the books at least.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“I might provide a few of the stronger plants at zero cost to a few citizens who benefit greatly from the natural medicinal advantages of the cannabis plant,” I admit.

“Is that right?”

“In Tennessee, marijuana is a Schedule VI substance, so maybe, maybe not.”

“Gotcha,” she utters.

“I’m hoping, one day, the law will change, but as of now, it’s a felony to cultivate it, and I’m not about to commit a felony. Whatever the others do with the plants is up to them.”

She stops and turns to me. “I’m impressed.”

“By what?” I ask.

“You’ve built a responsible and sustainable farm. Most people would cut corners and costs to have a more profitable business.”

I shrug. “It might be a bit more expensive to run, and it takes a lot of time and patience and hands-on farming, but I love this mountain. I love this land. And I stand behind the quality of the product I sell to the people in the valley, so it’s all worth it.”

She smiles, and I find that her quiet approval makes my chest tight.

I think this is the beginning of a beautiful working relationship.

Anna

After we tour the farm, we make our way back to the office. Weston shows me around and gets me acquainted with the filing system and skeleton accounting program. The man has been running the place using legal pads and carbon copy paper since its inception.

He concludes his training session by presenting me with his Rolodex, which holds the contact information for all his business contacts. I take it from his hand and set it on the edge of my desk.

“Wow,” I say.

“What’s that?” he asks.