Dear Spell-check

SpellCheck

Dear Spell Check,

           (Spellcheck? spellcheck?  spelcheck? spellczech?)

You and I are gonna come to blows. You done did it this time!

My last name has only ONE “a”.

“Maryland” is one word and no, I don’t want “Merry Land”.

That thing in her nose is a “nasal cannula” not a “nasal cannoli”… (wouldn’t THAT be messy!)

And I won’t even discuss what you did to turn “IRS” into “ARSE”! Seriously?

Here’s to you checking more carefully, and my being properly caffeinated before I send out my next document.

Your humbly (embarrassed) servant,

me

 

P.S. My family reminded me of  one of my greatest miss-texts. It was the time that I was text-nagging a daughter to get her annual flu shot. Except that Siri, in all of her wisdom, changed “flu shot” to “fly shit.” I’ll never live that one down.

A little nickel sours the whole load…

Last night, just before I was heading to bed, I stopped in the laundry room to change over one load and put in the next. It’s a pretty routine habit for me. I knew I had missed at least a day doing this, and figured the load would be OK. Unfortunately, when I opened the washer door, it was anything BUT a routine change-out.

The washer load (towels and tablecloth) had been sitting in the wash water, which had not drained. It smelled like rotting leaves or brackish water. To be blunt… it stunk!

I pulled out the sopping wet things into a bucket, dumped them in the laundry sink and closed the washer. This was a task for the morning.

Sure enough, this morning, after several rounds of squeezing, twisting and poking, Beloved Bearded Spouse found the culprits… a nickel and a machine screw. And judging from the gunk on the nickel, it had been there a while… It’s incredible, but the nickel is the EXACT size of the ID (inner diameter) of the discharge port on the water pump. The machine screw on the other side of the water pump (the intake side) prevented the water pump blades from spinning.

Two gallons of stinky water, four sopping wet towels and about an hour of wrist-bending work… and the washer is working again!! Gotta love my BBS!

The first time this happened, it was a $150 house call from a washer repairman. He told us we should check the pants pockets more carefully. Well DUH. The second time, BBS dismantled the assembly and managed to find yet again another nickel. This is the third time. No. We still miss things… another nickel??? Yup.

So as I run a couple of washer loads of stinky laundry this morning, all I could think of was Paul’s admonition to the Corinthians…

Don’t you realize that this sin is like a little yeast that spreads through the whole batch of dough?

A little nickel. A big stink. A “little sin” in my life. A big mess.

When I think about confession, or I think about sin, I don’t always address my own sin in the light of God’s perfection and holiness. “It’s just a little thing. A quirky bad habit.” Just like a little bacon cheeseburger and fries doesn’t do anything. “It’s not like I do this all the time.” Maybe once in a while is OK. But once a week? I’m sure I add to the plaque in my arteries every time I do indulge, no matter how infrequent.

So… the pile of stinky, sopping towels reminds me… a “little” sin adds up. Here’s to being washed clean…

Perpetually messy…

Deb