It's Sunday morning, and I figured it was time to grind up a bud of Lambs Bread. The buds I have are as thick as my thumb, and about half as tall...nice, compact nuggets, light green and covered in orange hair. I describe the smell as a distinct Sativa odor...strong, pure, not flowery, but similar to a Green Crack, but with an identity all its own. I grind. I empty the grinder, and behold that the wondrous finely ground herb is ready for inhalation. I always use the same instrument for each review: my manzanita root, 43 year old pipe, that I received as a gift on my 17th birthday. Yes, I'm an old timer, but I still can kick your ass in checkers. The taste is just like its odiferous offering, smooth and very pleasing to the palate, throat and lungs. Tastes sweet and clean. It's been approximately 20 minutes since a small bowl has been torched, and I feel a bit aroused. No, ye of filthy mind, not in the loins, in the mind. This is not a kick in the face buzz, but an easy lifting of the spirits, like the slow assent of a hot air balloon on a Southern California morning with no wind to potentially blow you into a 1,000,000 volt high tension electrical line. You can relax, you worry worts. No mind bending gonna happen here, just nice and easy, steady as she goes. I'm giving the Lambs Bread, (Breath) a 4.5 on the John 18 scale. Summa Cum Laude for taste, as its smoothness is just divine, as my friends in West Hollywood say, and it's taste lives up to its highest marks in the exhalation. I'm taking points away for it's "stopping power". That's a term used to describe a weapon's ability to stop an animal or a man with one shot. Lambs Breath will require several "shots", to bring down this raging buffalo, as I like an ass whooping sativa that blows out my eyeballs with a hit or two, but that's just me. I'm talking about a Ghost Train Haze, or a Green Crack, a real forehead thumper, that just might make an anxious or paranoid personality jump up and down, looking for that stranger behind them, lurking, ready to touch them somewhere on their vulnerable body or mind, (perhaps even both). If this reminds you of yourself, or someone you know, no worries with Lambs Bread. It's easy like Sunday morning.