You’ve heard it a million times, but have you ever heard it done as an EXCITING SAMBA? It’s the theme from Jeopardy, and other great MIDI tracks courtesy of Laura May, Musician Extraordinaire.

A rural Alabama county has a problem with residents not having any type of sewage system. Often, raw sewage runs out a pipe onto the open ground, in the woods or on a field. This can, of course, cause problems. The county is faced with jailing the residents who don’t install a proper system, despite the fact that the residents can’t afford a proper system. The county is one of the country’s poorest, and the geography makes septic systems very expensive. The story quotes one comment from a single mother of four kids with no running water, no septic, and a high power bill (which raises all kinds of questions about what choices/circumstances have put her in that position). Jailing her would solve nothing, yet the problem can’t be ignored. This has relevance to my life because my neighbor recently sold off his land except for two acres on my property line. He’s constructed a make-shift home out of an old trailer balanced on tall stacks of cinder blocks. His water line is a buried hose running from his electric well. His electricity is supplied by an extension cord running a few hundred feet from the well to the trailer. The electric company pulled his meter (though he unsuccessfully tried to get around that problem). His waste is running right out onto the ground, and has nowhere to go but into my fish pond, and from there right into the river. The county has finally become aware of the situation, and now we’re waiting to see what happens. Prosecution with jail time is possible, though I’d hate to see that happen. We’ve made an offer to purchase his land, which would give him enough money to relocate someplace with existing facilities, but he’s not accepted the offer.

The New York Times spent 36 hours in Athens, including Saturday breakfast at the Farmer’s Market (though they forgot to mention it).

More trouble for our local wacky religious sect, the Nuwaubians. This is by far more severe than before: their leader was arrested this week on federal child sex charges.

Some of you may have been wondering (after my not writing all week) if we survived market last week. The short answer: yes. But barely. We had a lot to harvest, and Chris ended up having a last-minute appointment of her own on Saturday, so I was pretty much on my own. Harvesting took six hours or so, lasting well into the night on Friday, through several periods of rain. After a couple hours’ nap, I awoke to a downpour. A quick check at the radar confirmed it would last all day, and include lightning and possible hail. And so I set off into the storm to sell vegetables at the outdoor market. Folly, maybe, but I was still eager to be there, and the vegetables would not last another week. (Nor would that have lasted unharvested another week). We bought a pavilion a few weeks ago, mostly to keep the sun off of us, so I didn’t have to stand directly in the rain for several hours. Still, there were drips and gusts, so nothing stayed dry. A few customers came by, maybe a dozen or so over the six hours I was there. The take at the end of the day: $15. Not bad, considering. But I’d only sold a few percent of the goods I brought. Fortunately, the next day was better, so I brought everything along to a membership meeting at the theater and sold off quite a bit more and increased the week’s take to $56. Even still, the chickens got to eat most of what I’d picked. This week will be better. There’s not as much to harvest, so tonight’s work will go faster. Chris can help this time. There are thunderstorms forecast for tomorrow, but not as severe as last week, and they may miss us yet. To see the weekly newsletter, visit the farm’s website. They’re in MS Word format – I’ll port them to something more universal sometime.

Six months ago, I promised to post the text of our wedding ceremony here, and now that we’ve done a reinactment for those attending the lifewarming party, it’s time to do so… As I mentioned before, we married each other. That is to say, we conducted our own ceremony, without a third person between us telling us what to say. Had we been in Kansas, that would have been all we needed. Since we weren’t, we got our minister (Hi, Steve!) to sign the right blank on the form. Besides our immediate families, three of our closest friends were in attendance. The ceremony is cobbled together from other ceremonies we have read, attended, and performed, with some original layout and writing thrown in. We put the words in a wonderful book with a handmade cover of pressed botanicals, bound with natural string and wood, and leafed with natural screened paper. We read the ceremony without memorization or prompting. Chris: We have brought you here to join in the celebration of our marriage. The presence of our family and friends enhances and enriches every experience in. our lives. We thank you for your generosity, love, and support as we continue to build our lives together. And now, we invite anyone who wishes to say a few words in commemoration of this ceremony to do so. {Those in attendance said a few words.} Eric: Thank you. Chris, I come here freely and without reservation to give myself to you in marriage. I will love, comfort, and honor you, and keep with you forever more. Chris: Eric, I come here freely and without reservation to give myself to you in marriage. I will love, comfort, and honor you, and keep with you forever more. Eric: I promise to accept you as no one other than yourself – loving what I know of you, trusting what I do not yet know. Chris: I promise to laugh with you in joy, grieve with you in sorrow, and grow with you in love. Eric: I will be your equal, but not your double. Chris: I will be your partner, never your shadow. Eric: Together we shall share our discoveries and expand the boundaries of our lives. Chris: Together we will live life to the fullest, for all the days that we share. Eric: For all that we have already created together and all that we are yet to become, I offer my hand as your partner. Chris: As your partner I give you my hand so that together we may realize our dreams. Eric: I love you and ask you to accept me as your husband. Chris: I love you and accept you gladly. Will you accept me as your wife? Eric: I will. I give you this ring to remind you that I love you all the days of your life. Chris: I give you this ring to remind you that I love you all the days of your life. Eric: Little Cosmic Dust Poem , by John Haines Out of the debris of dying stars, this rain of particles that waters the waste with brightness; the sea-wave of atoms hurring home, collapse of the giant, unstable guest who cannot stay; the sun’s heart reddens and expands his mighty aspiration is lasting, as the shell of his substance one day will be white with frost. In the radient fiend of Orion great hordes of starts are forming, just as we see every night, fiery and faithful to the end. Out of the cold and fleeing dust that is never and always, the silence and waste to come – This arm, this hand, my voice, your face, this love. Chris: The chemist who can extract from his heart’s elements compassion, respect, longing, patience, regret, surprise, and forgiveness and compound them into one can create that atom which is called love. Our hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and nights. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. By Khalil Gibran Eric: Before you, we have promised to share our lives in marriage. You have participated in the covenent we have made. Thank you for your presence and blessings as we have become husband and wife.

This Saturday, Chris and I will take our first harvest of vegetables into the Athens Organic Farmer’s Market, which was the subject of this recent newspaper article.

Waiting For Godot: The Interactive Adventure! I have watched several versions of the play, directed dit, played Lucky, and made an appearance as Godot in an unrelated production. But this may be the best way to experience the masterpiece.

Day is done, gone the sun, from the lakes from the hills from the sky, all is well, safely, rest… This particular day lasted 72 hours or so. The party is over, the last of the guests have just left. It seemed everyone had a good time, and we certainly enjoyed being with everyone. Especially those that came from as far away as several thousand miles to be with us – we don’t get to see you often, and it meant the world to us that you were here.

Items found inside a nice discarded Bible discovered while cleaning trash on our property:

• A letter from a relative turning down a request for money and explaining why other family members would burn in hell
• A full page ad from a Penthouse magazine for the Pam and Tommy video
• A full page ad from a Mopar Action magazine for checks with classic cars on them
• A full page ad from a Penthouse magazine for an herbal supplement that boosts male performance
• A magazine ad for the Jerry Springer “Too Hot for TV!” video
• A scrap of paper on which is written “Creed Dont sittle no skor”
• A full page ad from Penthouse magazine for penile enlargement surgery
• A scrap of paper with information about an order from Eastbay, a sporting goods company
• A scrap of paper with citations for eight bible passages
• A photo of a truck in front of a mobile home
• A photo of a tractor
• A photo of a station wagon
• An envelope with citations for four bible passages and the note “God gave “Adam " charge over creation and his wife Eve. So when Eve was deceived who did the God call to in verse 9 of chapter 3?”
• A piece of paper on which is written “If you wen’t camp and you woke up with a ruber hanging from your ass would you tell iney bity.”