Open discussion with God

I’m having an issue with God today.


My irises are beautiful, my columbine are flowering like gangbusters, the creeping phlox has never looked better, and my double-flowering crab is so covered with blossoms one can scarcely see any leaves. I planted most of the vegetable garden last week, squash and all, AND. IT'S. SNOWING. TO-DAY!

Are you freaking kidding me??? It’s the 24^th of May, God. Who sent this work order in?

Have Your angels been dipping in the sauce behind Your back?

Did the head of Your weather department develop Alzheimer’s when You weren’t looking?

I’ll bet it’s those cherubs, playing tricks again. The little scoundrels!

Respectfully speaking, Sir, you need to give someone a talking to.

We had weather like this in Jackson Hole where I grew up. Two inches of snow on June 18 in—when was it—the mid seventies? Snow on the fourth of July when I was a kid. Snow in August, occasionally, and almost always snow on the high peaks each Labor Day.

Ok, so crap happens in Jackson Hole. Accept that and if you don’t like it, move on.

I didn’t like it and I went south. I did my part, God. So why am I seeing this unmentionable white stuff all over my lawn?

And don’t even tell me snow is ‘soft white crystalline flakes’. I don’t care. It’s COLD, for Pete’s sakes, and that takes any loveliness it might have ever thought of having and flings it right out the window!

Don’t give me a scientific explanation about how the ‘upper atmospheric conditions’ got out of control and the rain we were scheduled for was ‘run through a  deepfreeze on the way down’, either. There’s a simple solution to all that.
Turn on the heat!
Then blow that upper-atmospheric deepfreeze back to the top of the Grand Teton where it came from, originally, and tie it down so it won’t escape again.

Or, if you don’t like my suggestions, think up some other brilliant solution to the problem we’re having down here. I don’t care. Just do what You have to do and clear this mess up, please. My sense of humor does not include admiring beautifully-shaped ice crystals in May – or June, July, August, September or October, either, for that matter. These are the months for gentle warmth—please note the stress on gentle, there—, and for green growing things, backyard barbecues and tanning on the trampoline. That’s a little hard to pull off when there’s a freakin’ blizzard going on outside.

So, quick!, tie up those cherubs, replace that Alzheimer’s angel with a seraph who can think straight, and lock up the sauce. Snow in summer belongs in Jackson Hole. Let’s keep it there!