Through The Maze: Rest now, old friend

Still running for the cheese (or why this blog still exists)

As my regular readers can tell, this has been a dry year for me. Just look at the number of posts this year vs. 2008! Awhile back, I had considered either shutting down the Maze, or starting a new blog that would more accurately reflect where I am in life now. Truth be told, sometimes I come here, look around, and feel distinctly hypocrytical about the things I want to write. I'm sure I'm not the only one to ever be in that kind of place.
As the time in between posts has grown longer, I came to realize something. Without the past years' material, where I am now makes very little sense. What good is the destination without the journey? As Christians, so much of the best stuff that happens to us is in the times God is molding us to His image. To throw away the evidence of that process would somehow cheapen the result, I think.
So, here we are, dear friends. I think my little mousie may just have rounded a corner finally. Some things will change around here to reflect the changes in my heart. And you know what? That's ok. As much as I typically rage against anything changed in my life, I'm learning to accept the God-given ones. My prayer is that some of you may be encouraged by what you read here. Hey, you may even be challenged. And of course, if you know me, then you know you always stand a good chance of being offended too. Not intentionally, to be sure! Just know that what you find as you wander this Maze with me may surprise you as much as it does me.

All that to say this:

Welcome to

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Rest now, old friend

I lost a dear old friend this week. We spent many quality hours together, working as a team. I will miss him greatly because it is now obvious to me that he is not so easily replaced. I am talking about my Swiffer WetJet of course. ~sniff sniff~

I had that thing for almost 6 years before it finally bit the dust. Not too shabby when you consider how poorly some home products are made in this day.

Before he died, I had recommended a WetJet to my mother for her mopping needs. After all, how can you argue with the 5 signs of clean? Within a few weeks of purchasing hers, she mentions to me that not only did they have to replace the batteries already, but that it looked like the shaft of the mop was giving way. Hmmm, I thought. How odd. *Mine* certainly never did that!

That conversation came flooding back to me in the moment I realized my own Jetty had gone on to the great beyond. Uh oh. What was I in for? And now I unfortunately know.

Here is a side by side comparison of "Ol' Trusty" and the new replacement I had purchased. The first thing I noticed was my new WetJet did not have the nice foam gripper on the handle. How disappointing, particularly for someone like myself with carpal tunnel. "Ahh I see this relationship will be adversarial.", I thought.

A closer shot of the neck of the mops. Now, I can tell that the buttons to shoot out the cleaning solution are not only different colors, but "Ol' Trusty" has a button that is sturdier as well as a more durable neck in general. "Now I see what Mom is talking about".

In this final shot, I noticed 2 things. In looking at the black square area where the cleaning solution comes out, "Ol' Trusty's" is both higher off the floor and angled, where as "Newby Punk's" is quite flat and low to the floor. The other observation is that the pivot point is very tight on "Da Punk" and I began to predict problems with that. (for those that don't know, the tubing that the cleaning solution travels down flows through the pivot point)

Well, it was time to put the camera away and start on the floor. I must say, my disappointment was warranted. "Da Punk" and I do not get along well. Perhaps it is because memories of the times "Ol' Trusty" kept me in good stead were flowing through me as I worked. Or maybe it really is because companies take the cheap way out after a few years and produce inferior products. In either case, I miss my mop. It was hard to throw it, even though I know it couldn't be fixed.

Rest now, old friend. We'll get along with out you. After many years, you've earned it.

Til next squeak,