Oh howdy,
Mostly, things have been pretty stable here at the Rancho. The summer heat has made no bones about dominating the landscape. We're managing to sort of keep pace with the needs of the younger trees, whose water requirements exceed the old stand trees. The wwoof's have taken the cue and are up increasingly early to complete their chores before their skin starts blistering and the hallucinations get too strong. Noemie has taken to wearing a burkha made from old feed bags with eye slits cut out and Jeremiah told me that at around noon the other day he heard the flower of a Dragon Fruit cactus start singing "Wooly Bully". Nurse Cassie, who worked the West Wing for years said she just keeps seeing the face of Martin Sheen percolating up through the soil and whispering, "go to the light."

We are on the verge of re-establishing agricultural water rates here after a mere thirteen year transition to a delivery system that will allow us the potential for increased volume and greatly reduced cost, giving us the opportunity to farm this rat infested rock pile in a way hitherto in the realm of "don't think about it, it will drive you crazy". We've all gotten so burned out over this process that enthusiasm levels over meter installations were on par with going to get a root canal.

To say this has been a cluster fuck would be to seriously underestimate the reality. That having been said, here we are, application for ag rates submitted and accepted, inspector being assigned to the task, with the potential result being to pay one fourth the rate we currently pay and the odds coming in at about two to one that it will actually happen.

The meeting with the inspector will be a schmooze fest of monumental proportions with our ultimate ace in the hole in defense of the inevitable catch 22 ( "you want ag rates but you're not using enough land" or "don't have enough income" or "can't tell a chicken from a two by four"), being the fact that we have had insufficient and overly expensive water to farm the land to the extent that the current codes require and therefore, existing efforts along with our obvious zeal for playing creator on this rodent strewn heap of stone should give us every right to continue our attempts at making the desert bloom and show productivity curves previously reserved for Exxon Mobil and Jennifer Lopez.

The mindset that control of water should dominate rather than liberate peoples lives is the final assault on and insult to equitable and virtuous behavior. It is no less than wielding the power of life and death over those deemed unworthy of this common resource. "Tough talk there mo-fo, why so freaked over the h2o", you might ask if you had just finished chugging a quart of colt 45 at a local poetry slam.

Well, 'cause millions worldwide are looking into the precipice of survival due to starvation and dehydration and water borne disease. Because farmers world wide are taking the easy way out and just killing themselves rather than face the relentless realities imposed by privatized water and industrial agriculture to whom the starving hordes are merely collateral damage in the war for water.

Interesting stat courtesy of my pal J. Nay. "According to the Washington Post in '05, just one flush of a toilet in the west uses more water than most Africans have to perform an entire day's washing, cleaning, cooking and drinking." Not going on a rant, just saying. One of the other stats that says it all is the one about a billion people being under nourished and eight hundred million being obese (and thats just in Alabama). My oh my oh my. It appears as though common sense has gone fishing.

Here we have a case of invasive species, as in the movement of indigenous plants to geographic realms where their introduction could trigger trouble. Only in this case we're talking about areas of the brain, as in reptilian survival impulses making their way to the neo cortex and hunkering down, taking pot shots at passing impulses aimed at integrated and holarchic thought. It is an invasion of alien thinking into the realms of moral imperative and intellectual process as confounding as it is culturally denigrating. It segments us and separates us from nearly everything but the hyperbole of narcissism and power. We walk past the beauty of life while staring at a tiny lcd display, twittering away.

"Whoa, slow down there professor poopy pants, nobody wants a killjoy for a cellmate", you might say. And right you would be. I can rest content in the fact that my daily routine is fulfilling, that my smoke filled think tank will never fully grasp the complexity of the ridiculousness we move through and that around ten thirty a.m. on any particularly hot day, the faces of my chickens will morph into Newt Gingrich. Better, as they say, than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. And yes, laughter is the best medicine.

I'm posting a list of available food and House of Yumm goodness under the C.S.A. tab on the website (www.ranchorelaxzo.com ). This will be a weekly post. Good way to keep you updated while saving space for writing about things of critical importance as well as broadening the participation in my quest for world wide domination of all things Permaculture. The people here at the "Institution" only allow me 15kbs of cyberspace before the keyboard locks down and surges with electric current. Probably best as i've usually eaten my t-shirt by now.

Not sure we can call it a "Grimelock", given that its not at my place and we won't be using Grimes' p.a., but its probably not too early to mention the thirteenth annual fiftieth b-day celebration. My auntie micro Dot, being 22 hours older than me has donned the mantle of hostess and is providing a great party space up at rainbow acres in olinda. Sahweet. The date is Sunday, the 23rd of August. Will fill in details as to time and directions in next weeks post. One thing's for sure, its pot luck with the theme being to bring something that makes you want to drop to your knees and shout hallelujah.

The more you show, the more we'll grow. Stay cool, Jp