Holy Matrimony!...It's time to face the music!

I am the luckiest guy I know.  How many wives allow their husbands to sneak around their backs, log on to the computer, and attempt to carry on a relationship with the rest of the blogging world? As I near 180 posts, and thank all the people that have stopped by to ogle my foolish rants about other peoples stuff, the one person I have to really thank is my wife.  I have left her during the Oscars, at the top of the ninth inning during the play-offs, on the edge of her seat during "Rear Window," and out in the garden, while I send one more diatribe out in to the vast unknown 'net. God, I am such a heel, because here I am, at it again! Thanks, Honey! and a Special Thanks for 13 years of marriage (May 2nd).

So, maybe it's no wonder that I have an interest in other peoples documents of matrimony. This isn't the final post on the box of papers from the house on the peninsular corner/intersection of East Franklin St, and Main St. in Danbury, CT. More fun than other peoples mail, it's reading the forms and documents from long ago. The information that red tape generators of the world request are all too often revealing and potentially embarrassing. Maybe some of those blank form questions are there solely for the entertainment of the paper pushers.

You may need to squint to read some of the details from this form, but it does give a snapshot of Danbury at the start of a new century. There was a large Italian immigrant section of the city that I am only now learning about. I hope a reader will see this and be moved to guest author a post. In the meantime I have to draw out the naive question of the day: Did the groom marry his cousin, or his mother's cousin? Or maybe Lubova is just a common name in Italy.

  My next document for this post is a gem of a marriage certificate which although may be more decorative that official, it really is a work of art.  This was found at the tag sale that used to be held in the "off-season" at the old house located on the grounds for the Elephant's Trunk.  I bought it because of its age (1875) and it was local (Woodbury weds Roxbury):

The final document has nothing to do with marriage at all. Just a terse reminder that if you are going to sign up for music lessons you must pay your 50 cents each week. That you don't show up is, "...no economy to us."