My morning did not start too well, and sometimes I can just shoot myself in the hakskene (heels) , as I am the biggest ninnyhammer on this old earth. Baby Emil was still sleeping peacefully, and as it was only five am, I knew that I had at least an hour to do some outside chores. In peace!
Now, I wanted to cut the grass growing against Peter's ugly fence, and full of optimism I donned my gloves, doing that because my poor hands had to be nurtured for Xmas, as they were looking quite nasty! But my scissors that I used for that was nowhere to be found! For the next forty five minutes I went all over the house, the yard, every one of my hoarding cupboards, all with no result. The day before I was out on hunting down moles, and I knew I had the bally thing to cut down some grass patches under which the little horrors hide, so it should have been lying somewhere on my wee outside table, or maybe where I left it when my phone rang.
Actually I have three old scissors that was no good for anything else anymore, two black handled ones, that had mysteriously disappeared, and this pink handled one, and I really coveted it, trying not to loose it as well. But now it had disappeared, and I even went down to the bramble bushes, where I have a heap of weeds and grass busy changing into compost, and that was quite hazardous, as the bees were very busy at the bramble flowers, and my disturbing their morning nectar hunt made them as cross as wasps, buzzing angrily, and flying around like they wanted to attack me. So I very hastily departed, without finding out whether my scissors were amongst the grass cuttings of the day before.
When I got back to the house Emil was awake, and putting up a nasty show of temper because I was late with his bottle. I knew that I would not be able to do any more work, as Emil would only sit in the push cart for a wee while before getting ants in his pants, and start wriggling and moaning to be let out. My yard is just not compatible with babies, as the steps leading down from the main house to the built-on bit, is steep, and a baby could roll down easily, and to top that, a little furrow runs about two meters from my front door, and that is always full of water coming from the mountain.
I had decided to cover myself in sunburn lotion when Emil went to sleep at ten, and have another go at finding my scissors. After another fifteen minutes of hunting, I stood for a moment in front of Emil's bedroom window to listen whether he was still asleep. I was sweating, and the sun was burning down mercilessly, and then, through a stream of tears as the lotion had come into my eyes and burning like the blazes, my eyes travelled up to the top of my red ladder against the wall, and there, shimmering in the sunshine, was my errant bally scissors.
But with my eyes burning, and the sun not letting up, I had to leave what I wanted to do, and wait till it was cooler!
But my day was not altogether wasted, as I then kneaded some dough to make bread. Today I have put in a handful of nuts, some pumpkin seeds, another handful of oats, and to make it a bitty interesting, some  dried   cranberries.