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Neighbour had a visit from one of those pesky Spanish Rural Inspector uniformed people.
The ones that drive around in vehicles that look unnervingly like Guardia Civil, with a logo emblazened on the side, from the local Ayuntamiento.
The neighbour visit put them on his driveway, which is about 30 metres from my plants, which is where I was - watering them - when they departed, and we exchanged a friendly goodbye wave. I can guarantee my goodbye wave was probably a hell of a lot more nervous adrenaline fuelled than theirs!
So after I changed my underwear and extracted by genitalia from their temporary hiding place, which was somewhere between my belly button and my throat, I did the only thing that any grown, mature man can do.
I panicked.
Where my garden very recently looked like this;
it now looks like this;
The girls have undergone a lightning fast, emergency Black Op extraction to a secret location, where they now sit quietly, sharing a single 600W HPS with only the sounds of an extractor fan and a couple of oscillating fans to give their dulling senses enough stimulus to perceive their own consciousness and vitality.
Here they will spend their last living hours, awaiting the inevitable visit from Dr Fisker.
Thankfully, they were administered their last meal prior to extraction; a 5 litre dose of water laced with Advanced Nutrients Flawless Finish.
It was always going to be a messy end - this grow just had that written all over it.