Aggravated beyond belief...

That is what I would change my facebook status to if I wasn't so attached to my current one.
Current status:
Esther: Look mommy!
Me: At what?
Esther: At the raindrops. Aren't they beautiful?

Holy petals batman, she makes my heart puddle into a pool of sunshine.

BUT-----
I can't find the kid's scissor, so I am feeling a bit more stormy than normal.
Why do I need the kid's scissor? Why don't I just use mine?
Good question. Hilarious answer.
I broke mine.
While using them to cut my lawn. Really.
There is not a single lawn mower for sale in all of Loja. Quito is a day's drive away.
So----
The scissors worked. Until they broke.

Okay----
But why do I need scissors so badly?

Because I was perusing the "World of Momcrafts" (That is my made of name of the collection of internet resources that make me want to craft. Quick! Someone trademark it!) and I found the following:
Apron made of T-shirts.

I doubt you will read the rest of my post. You are all already lost in ruffles... and stuff.
But----
Just in case you come back:
I have a stack of t-shirts that have mysterious holes. Knit does not last long in Ecuador. It's a true mystery. Really. I hired Nancy Drew and she told me it was the fault of the clothespins. I quickly fired Miss Nancy. The holes are all on the front of the shirt, where no clothespins touch.
Then I hired that one lady who solves all those crimes in those books that use the alphabet for titles. (I forget her name) and she said it was my laundry detergent. Ding Ding.

Dong... I thought it worked. Two weeks later... more holes. Dingly dangly. Another shirt in the holey pile.
Agatha Christie (I don't care for Hercule Peroit OR Miss Marple so I went directly to the source), says it is because the buttons on my jeans are wearing holes in the shirts. Seems reasonable I guess. But why did it not happen in the States? I am still unsatisfied as to the cause of the mysterious holes... but back to the problem at hand.

The previous link gave me the immediate desire to turn my pile of holey shirts into an apron. Right now. This second! Ahora! Rapido! (I had café italiano tonight).

So--- Up I ran to get my shirts. Had to root around in the dark to find them because the light in my bedroom takes about half an hour to turn on. But I found them.

Found the needles I bought. (I bought them at a small hole in the wall fruit store. The guy stored them with buttons and matches. In a cookie jar.)

Couldn't find the thread, but decided that dental floss would be stronger anyway.

Everything was ready. Except that I realized I had broken my only pair of scissor.

No problem----
I would just use the kid's. It would be interesting. The kid's scissor are safety scissors, and it would probably be easier to just use my teeth... But I want to make an apron. Now! Right this second! Before I even post this blog post! (I don't think I will be sleeping tonight).

Okay--- so instead of making my apron, I decided I would torture you with this very long missive of nothingness that leads to no where.

Sorry.
But at least you have the link for an awesome blog. (not mine silly. The ruffles and stuff one.)

PS. It is my birthday. Someone send me a pair of scissors and a lawn mower. A human lawn mower is the best sort.