I have a pet peeve.  Well, I’m sure I have many of them, but this one hit me last night when I was shopping at Walnart  (intentionally spelled wrong).  The mirrors and windows in my house have not been cleaned in so long they are beginning to look like plexi-glass.  You know how it starts to get that hazy ’smokey’ look, well that’s how my windows look.  Anyway, I had Windex in all caps on my list so I would be sure not to leave the store without it, like I have the past dozen times I’ve been.  As I started down the cleaning isle, the bottles of Windex lit up like beacons with their red Windex contrasting beautifully with the bright blue liquid.  (I like Windex, can you tell?)  As I got closer, I noticed something…wait, is that purple Windex?!?!?  I couldn’t believe my eyes.  Now I understand that there are different strokes (in this case, Windex) for different folks, but I can’t for the life of me figure why they would need to change an already beautiful thing.  Now, I’m not really one for name brand products; most of the time there is no difference between the name brand and an ‘off’ brand.  HOWEVER, there are certain things I just can’t compromise on and, you guessed it, Windex is one of them.  I’ve tried other brands, but I don’t like the way they clean.  Windex is great - well, now I have to say original Windex is great!  I understand this purple stuff is may smell better to some, thus leading in its purchase over the original, but I can’t help but wonder if the smell-goods in the purple stuff messed up that oh-so-perfect Windex formula.  Past experiences have proven that different smells often result in different outcomes, which brings me back to my question, why change an already great product?

***WARNING:  If you have a squeamish stomach, you should NOT read this post.***

Saturday afternoon, I was doing some much needed work in my backyard.  I was cleaning up a flower bed and planting a tree.  The last thing I had to do was put a stake in the ground next to the tree to help hold it up as it grew.  I grabbed a garden stake (a 3ft long metal rod covered in green plastic), a ball of twine, and scissors.  Knowing my past clumsy experiences with sharp objects, I decided I shouldn’t try to cut the twine while hold the garden stake in my hand.  I placed one end of it between my teeth - yes it was clean - to free up my hands to cut a strip of twine.  I successfully cut the twine and managed to get the scissors back on the counter without cutting a finger off - a monumental task I must admit.  Then it happened.  I dropped the ball of twine on the floor.  Instinct kicked in and I quickly bent down to grab the ball of twine before it unwound across my dining room and living room floor.  Unfortunately, I failed to remember that I still had the garden stake between my teeth.  You can imagine what happened next.  The opposite end of the garden stake hit the floor, which caused the other end to jam up into the roof of my mouth.  My first reaction was to cover my mouth.  I’ve had enough crazy experiences like this to automatically try to prevent blood from going everywhere.  I soon made my way to my bathroom where I removed my hand from my mouth and was relieved to find no blood.  I had high hopes that I would be extremely lucky and not have any injury - that hope didn’t remain for long.  Then I opened my mouth and boy was there blood.  As I peered into the mirror I was able to determine that I had not punctured the palate of my mouth nor had I created a hole in the back of my throat, both of which I consider to be nothing short of a miracle.  The palate of my mouth is scraped and swollen, to say the least, and my uvula (the punching bag at the back of the throat) is nicked on one side.  Seeing as eating is not the least bit comfortable, I will be consuming my fair share of milkshakes and jello for the next few days.

Here’s the ironic thing…Yesterday in Kids Pointe we were learning about the different ways God provides warnings for us.  Becky so kindly encouraged me to share this story with the children.  I was told growing up to not run with a sucker (or anything else) in my mouth.  I took it a step further yesterday and gave all the children this warning:  “If you can’t eat it or drink it, then it doesn’t belong in your mouth.”  If God thought for one second that you would need more than two hands, He would have certainly given you a third hand.

The weather is absolutely beautiful.  Sun shining bright in a crisp blue sky scattered with white fluffy clouds.  Trees and flowers alike budding with the promise of beautiful spring blooms.  Oh to enjoy a walk through a beautiful garden or a good book in the slow relaxing swing of a hammock!

But not me…not now.

I spend my days sitting at a desk working on what seems like endless spreadsheets.  The gray walls of my cubicle close in around me.  The stale office air threatens to take the very life out of me…or so it seems. 

Each day come about 2:00, I am overwhelmed the desire - a deep need - to be outside.  The next hour and a half seem to crawl by as the itch to get OUT .  The thought of another minute chained to my desk is almost unbearable.  I now, more than ever, understand why this is called Spring fever; indeed it is like an illness, increasing in severity as each day passes.  That is until a day off can be had.