Out of Jesus You Could Make

Every Word of the Day from Wordsmith.org, which you should join and learn words because words are tasty, includes a snappy thought. Today's example:

A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
You can't be suspicious of a tree, or accuse a bird or a squirrel of subversion or challenge the ideology of a violet. - Hal Borland, journalist (1900-1978)

I have been suspicious of a tree. It was a particularly menacing apple tree outside my bedroom window two blocks from where I live now, and never have I seen the like of it. In high winds, it practically glowered. On sunny days, I could feel its rage. One day, my boyfriend came home from art school and found me hanging out the bathroom window, snipping away at the tree's most offending branches, though so many offended it was hard to reach highest dudgeon without a ladder.

Tata: I have to fix this so it can't touch the house!
Him: Let me get the Polaroid. The gaze is masculine but paramedics will enjoy a photo essay.

Who doesn't, frankly? Some time ago, I went looking for greener cleaning products. Larry, the little black cat no longer intent on stealing your soul, had feline leukemia and I had to be careful about in-home chemicals. Now that Larry's gone to his fishy reward, I could polish copper pipes with hydrochloric acid if I felt like it, but why repeat antics? Anyway, Pete and I use this stuff to clean and moisturize the teak furniture Pete's mom bought when he and I still had training wheels. It works fine, the scent is neutral, the wood looks content enough, but it's nothing to write home about, as opposed to this -

- which is a REASON TO LIVE. Some time ago, we bought a bottle of this almond cleaner and used it in the apartment, which was very small and had a very tired looking floor, so perhaps any attention at all was a shock. The floor looked great and the apartment smelled heavenly. Suzette tried it and didn't love the results. It seemed possible Method had reformulated - or something confusing: a second bottle we used at Pete's house smelled okay, but the unvarnished floor was dull and the scent was nothing special. Then we didn't see the product at that grocery store I terrorize and when we found it somewhere else, I opened the bottle suspiciously to smell what's what.

Rapture, that's what. Pete mopped the floor while I painted the upstairs hall on Sunday. Upstairs, I smelled almond oil, which was indescribably marvelous. I can't say why this product may be alternately so-so and a gift from the gods, but so it appears. Before you buy it, give it a good sniff. It won't make black light posters more exciting like chemical cleaners will. How does that fragrance make you feel?