God, Gravity, and Michele Bachmann

Moses says it was God.
Stephen Hawking says it is gravity.
One of the two is damnably determined
to bring the seven slabs of granite
marking our grass-covered driveway
to their backs in the grass.

I guess one could do worse.

About every five years, I have to put a chain around them, and pickup-persuaded them to stand tall, aiding the posture lesson with gravel tamped into the downhill cavity. I did that last week, just in time! God and gravity scarcely let me get home before dumping about a foot of snow on us; really wet snow! Had it been any wetter, it would have been rain.

It is one thing to dump heavy snow on a granite pillar, and quite another to plop it down on a dwarf tree with pretensions of altitude. The summer table on our deck sympathized. Having mowed the lawn just last week, the snow blower is still in storage, waiting for me to spend a day on my back in the garage, installing it. With the confidence of a Christian holding four aces (as Mark Twain once said), I hand-shoveled just the walkway, and am pretending that winter will go away before it returns for a long winter's night.

I am not hoping for global warming--the melting of glaciers in Greenland, and all that--but you may put me down for something really local. I know! That is stupid! But I have been listening to Tea Party people, and John Boehner, and Michele Bachmann, and I am letting faith trump facts. When I find time, I am working on a scheme to get gravity to run uphill. I will let you know.

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