The heap of sand and stones outside the window was bothering me, so I pushed the baby out and parked him underneath the biggest tree, and that was not very big at all, but I wanted to lay a path with the stones. The path I had done before was just two row of stones, and I wanted to do the whole path, and the trouble was that I could only work till about half nine in the mornings, as by then the sun would be baking down mercilessly, sending the most hardened living things running for shade.
It was difficult with Emil, as actually the only time that I could do some work outside was when he was sleeping, but as he sleeps from ten to one at the moment, I had to take him out with me, and stop when the sun became scorching, or roast myself to an ugly looking red.
I was sweating, and cursing a wee bit, as some of the rocks were too big and heavy for me to get off the heap, and Emil thought it oh, so funny, gurgling with glee every time I spit out a few hard words. Would have to start watching my vocabulary, as he was getting big now, and I would not like his first word to be one of my favourite swear words.
After I had a good old struggle, of course coupled with a lot of grazes, and a few blue finger nails that ached like the blazes, I found that it was quite easy to let the rocks roll down the heap, if I first made a smooth path for it. Emil found it wonderful sports, and he was rocking wildly in his pushcart, laughing and screaming. He was such a lovely little thing, and the fact that he hardly ever cried made him very easy to bring up, well, if one forget about his little temper! But he only revolted when he couldn't get his bottle immediately.
I was really giving my all, and tried to forget my aching and wounded hands, and also my left foot's big toe that somehow got underneath a rolling rock, and I was too scared to look, as I thought it could be broken, as it was aching like the blazes.
My eagerness for the job was abruptly stopped when I took out another huge boulder, and there sat a big, green and white frog. The poor thing must have been in a deep sleep, as he sat for a moment with his eyes closed, while I watched closely in case he was disorientated, and decided to jump, and jumped onto me by mistake. I was definitely not scared of frogs, having a whole army as unwelcome house guests, but a frog jumping on me was a no-no.
But this poor frog opened his eyes after a moment, and looked intently at me with two black myopic eyes, as if to ask: 'What are you doing to my house?' That was the end of my day's work, as I just did not have the heart to destroy the frog's house, so I took baby, and retired for the day. I would maybe be more remorseless on another day!