First, the disappointment. For as we continue to build cooperation with each other and communion with our Earth Mother, the forces of disintegration and violence also continue to simmer just on the outskirts of Green Acres Village, but inside the boundaries of Green Acres Neighborhood. What do I refer to? Some time during the past week, vandals once again ripped off one of the five Green Acres signs, and it happens to be the same sign. See:

Green Acres Sign Saga Darkens

The last time was just after the signs were installed, about two and a half years ago. For the entire saga, see

Green Acres Sign Saga

That time had a totally unexpected happy ending. One year later, the sign was returned, by an IU policeman who happened to notice it sitting in a closet of a student apartment.

Good News Finale to Green Acres Sign Saga

We thought our troubles were over. They were not. This time both sides of the sign were ripped off separately, so there is no possibility of just nailing it back on, even if it were found.

Logan noticed the situation, took a photo, and alerted me during our work party last Tuesday night. I’ve been processing this latest theft, and the inconsiderate, even cynical and drunken party culture that attends undergraduate education in the U.S. during this difficult time in his-story when the future looks bleak and it’s hard to find something to look forward to.  So just rip stuff off! Why not? Who cares? Google “empathy declines” and you will see a slew of articles on this topic.

Meanwhile, we in the GAV are demonstrating what we can look forward to, once we stop long enough to assess the situation and begin to respond in a way that brings all that has been separated together — our minds from our bodies, our selves from each other and the earth, our communion with the cosmos. All dimensions are present here, NOW, and seek integration. It’s time to turn around, stop the senseless destruction, begin to re-create, co-create, regenerate.

A few photos from last Tuesday evening’s work party, during which Rebecca assigned us to different tasks. I pulled unwanted plants from outside the garden fence (no pic) and took pics of others hard at work. And you know what? Working together on a common project is actually FUN. Much more fun than getting drunk and smashing things.

First, even before the official work party began, Rebecca had chainsawed a long post in half and with help from I’m not sure who, completed the new chicken yard gate.

Okay, here goes.

Tim, a visitor from Indianapolis, hard at work clearing a future garden bed.

Next, Dario, clearing an area for better drainage:

John, waiting to consult Rebecca regarding continued work on the bamboo fence.

Here she comes.

Rebecca tells me we need more — and better, stronger, bamboo. I suggested she make the request on nextdoor.com, which in a few short years has become an incredible networking tool for 39 neighborhoods in Bloomington. She did, and told me she got six responses! Six people who would not mind at all if we thinned their bamboo patch. So now the question, which place has the strongest bamboo? (She knows what to look for.)

Finally, my favorite set of pics from last week’s work party, Andreas and Logan, digging up chicory, and saving the root, to dry and grind as a coffee substitute.

Yes, puppy Shadow has a girlfriend, Stevie Nix, who’s teaching this little middle-aged curmudgeon how to play! Twice a day, in this house, on the rug. In my room typing this, I hear Shadow’s heavy breathing and sneak to the door to see them.(He’s fixed, so no worries.)

May we all learn how to play, or remember how to play, no matter what our ages!

And that goes for our “work” as well. If it isn’t fun, it isn’t ours to do. And some “work” is better done by robots, less we turn into robots ourselves.

How do we get back to reality? We learn, more and more, to connect with ourselves, each other, and the earth, i.e., we learn to live beneath “money,” that scrim over the top of real life that has captured humanity for way too long and that we think is real. Fiat money, real? HA.