Tuesday, March 27, 2007


Just in case...

It hit 75 degrees here in lovely, suburban Caledonia yesterday. I took out all the storm windows and put up the screens without hurting myself one little bit. Got the whole house fan going and there was a comfortable breeze scented with Spring wafting through the old Wooden House. I walked around in shorts all day and in my spare time read "1776" by David McCullough.

(If you haven't McCullough you should! I am very impressed with the way he writes history. This is my first book by him and I'm loving it!)

Anne of the House asked me if I wanted to barbeque burgers and pork chops for dinner. What a delightful idea! I found the charcoal out in the shed. (I didn't have to pull out the Weber grill because we leave it out all winter just in case.) I got my utensils ready, lit the fire, spread the Kingsford and began grilling.

As I sat out on the back stoop enjoying the warm evening I had a creeping chill run up my spine. What if the Religious Witness for the Earth people are right? I mean, I know that all creation is groaning waiting for the revelation of the sons of God. But what if, by some weird chance, they are right? What to do?

I decided to try and lay hands on the earth. You know, just in case. But what kind of prayer does one pray for the spiritual healing of the earth? I'm not sure I ever learned that at the Harvard of Evangelicalism or in seminary. I puzzled as I crouched in my backyard with my hands on the moist ground. Pretty soon the neighbors were sneaking peeks at me and I began to feel self-conscious. My dogs started sniffing around me, wondering why I was squatting in their bathroom. Still nothing came to mind. It was becoming awkward.

So, just like we used to do when we got caught praying over a meal at The Big Banjo, I pretended I was looking for something in the grass, shook my head disappointedly, and stood up to check the burgers.

I just hope Al Gore doesn't find out I chickened out. Then he'll be able to blame George Bush and that Shiloh Guy in Michigan.

Sorry, you guys.


Blogger The Occasional Glass of Wine Non-Denominationalist said...

It is not enough to squat, palms to the earth. You must also chant.

I suggest this ancient aboriginal American chant, to be repeated over and over until you feel, at your core, connected to our earth:


11:35 AM  
Blogger Shiloh Guy said...

OH! Thanks! I was using a variant of that,


12:07 PM  
Blogger Yakimaniac said...

I am picturing you in my mind: squatting in the yard - wearing shorts. Whew! You could have been arrested.

Check out "Mornings on Horseback" also by McCullough. One of the best books I have ever read.

2:13 AM  
Blogger Anne of The House said...

I'm sure glad you got cute little Molly off the present screen! Thank you for that!

6:28 PM  

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