How Muriel and Molly went to Heaven with a Barn, Three Cows, and a Cottonwood Grove

This incessant wind,” Oliver said. “This ceaseless, constant, unrelenting, relentless, blasted wind.”

A small tree flew past in a haze of branches, leaves, birds’ nests, dust, and a three of Dutch Weatherby’s Holsteins.

Oliver and Muriel stood at the window. “The liberal pribles say its like this because we burn coal and eat beef,” he noted.

It is God’s wind,” Muriel said.

I don’t care who owns the damn stuff.” Oliver had a rather faltering disregard for deity that his wife did not share. “Whoever it is should just shut it down. We didn’t ask Him for it.

“What God gives, God gives,” Muriel said.”

Well,” he observed, “I see Dutch sent Molly after the cows.” Molly, the border collie pup, came in, yelping, at about 8 feet, hit the gutter, yelped, bounced up, yelped, and could be heard yelping as she bounced, scraped, and tumbled across what was left of the shingles.

“Hmpf.” When Muriel did not mention God, she was exceptionally, some might say articulately, brief.

I’d thank Him to leave my wheat alone,” Oliver said. The wheat, accompanied by the harvester and a couple of tons of top soil was, at that point, exiting the ranch in close pursuit of Wetherby’s cow’s and Molly.

Thank Him for what he blesseth.”

Maybe we should have paid attention to this global warming BS that the liberal pribles have been spouting,” Oliver said.

What God will do, God will do,” Muriel said.

There goes the barn,” Oliver said. It was—had been—a good barn, built and consecrated to God by Muriel’s father in the summer of 2032. As Oliver remembered it, the damn consecration went for a insistently long time—four o’clock until dark. At least, when Oliver woke up it was dark and the prayer was over.

“You’d think with that much prayer for its safety, bounty, and long life, it would last at least until eternity,” Oliver muttered.

And, in fact, until now, it had been quite solid. But, now it was a scatter of scissoring siding, bulleting rivets, paint flake shrapnel, hay bale bombs and four-by-fours, slamming into and slicing through the cottonwood grove, which presently joined the detritus, all of it rising, in one chaos, leaving Kansas and headed for Oz.

He giveth, and he taketh,” Muriel said.

I’m headed for the basement,” Oliver said.

He who is without faith is a fool,” Muriel called after him.

Well, when He stops this breeze,” Oliver said, “Maybe I’ll thank Him.”

He stepped through the hatch into the dark of the basement, which did not remain dark very long. The basement did not remain dark because it was enlightened. It was enlightened because the house was leaving. Without Oliver’s quite substantial and realistic weight, the house was free to submit to the whims of the wind. Which it did, taking with it Muriel, the cat, the family bible, and all of Oliver’s Scientific American and Western Cattleman magazines to join Weatherby’s cows, Molly, the wheat field, the barn and the cottonwood grove in a mass homage to the insistence of moving air.

I’d ask you to stick around for supper,” Oliver muttered as he ducked into the shelter of the newly enlightened basement. “But since you Insist. . . .”

5 thoughts on “How Muriel and Molly went to Heaven with a Barn, Three Cows, and a Cottonwood Grove

  1. This. Is. Priceless.
    I’m tempted to try and start a theological discussion, but some folks get offended, even though I only do it for fun – or perhaps because of that. Whichever view you take, I’ll go for the opposite.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Go ahead. I’d love thoughts on God. My thoughts, whether clear or not here, is that people are putting too much trust in Jesus for the physical salvation of our planet. He isn’t here to do it. We are.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I think that people are reassured by Jesus, and that has to be a good thing – as long as they live by his teachings. I used to be a Mormon – converted to the church by missionaries. What I learned from that was that the God of the Bible wasn’t someone I would be proud to have as a father. Since then, certain unlikely events have brought me to the conclusion that there is a higher power which we can tap into, but we have to do some footwork. I suspect this higher power is the collective consciousness, but I’m not sure.
        There – that’s me being straight for a change.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Do you think, perhaps, that Jesus, arriving on earth with the ‘assignment’ to bring human beings to the way of God, suddenly realized that He didn’t really understand what was going on down here? So, maybe instead of just saying ‘Love God and you will be saved,’ (as he was suppose to) he went a bit off script and started saying ‘love everybody, because nobody is going to save anybody if you fools keep up with this offing shady ladies and Samaritans and then buying pigeons in the halls of God to atone for it?’

        I donno. If I start thinking that way, then the Bible starts to make about 30% more sense. Howsomever, it does somewhat redefine the omniscient God thing. Then again, maybe people just made that up? Like I say, I donno.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. I think that human beings felt some sort of a divine omnipresence, but didn’t understand it, so they filled in the gaps with fiction. At the time when the old Testament was written, life was harsh, so they assumed that God was harsh. What kind of loving father would mess with his son (Abraham’s) head by telling him to take his kid up a mountain and kill him to prove how much he loved his father in heaven? I’m not sure who Jesus was, but I don’t think he was guided by the God who did stuff like that.
        So I reckon we made God in our own image, and got it wrong.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.