The choice in puzzle still confounds me. St. Peters. Sure, let's puzzle-out one of the holiest Christian sites a couple weeks before Ramadan? WTF, Husband? We sure are a great mix, though, I have to say. I fast for a month a year and he gets psycho-Christmas-a-fied every December.
Also still puzzling, my lapse in self-knowing. The pile of puzzle pieces was too much to ignore for Isley. He spent as much time at the table as we did. He seemed perplexed as to why we were doing whatever it was we were doing.
Also still puzzling, my lapse in self-knowing. The pile of puzzle pieces was too much to ignore for Isley. He spent as much time at the table as we did. He seemed perplexed as to why we were doing whatever it was we were doing.
How did I not know? How could I not assume that a very complicated, difficult, tortuous puzzle would frustrate and infuriate me? I like to start and then finish a task. The end to this is so far off the horizon that it’s in another plane of existence entirely.
Atlas acts like he's not interested. Whatever, Atlas.
We started out with what was, in my opinion, a stellar attitude. We were all "We're gonna do this thing!"
"Team Us!"
We were definitely going to show that puzzle who was boss. Ready to tell that puzzle a thing or two. Ready for victory!
"You shall not win, Puzzle! We are a force to be reckoned with, Puzzle!"
Those moments were within THE HOURS we spent working on this damn thing. For me, it was mostly an exercise in patience and humility. And in keeping the puzzle pieces on the table. Oh, and an attempt to stop injuring myself. I knocked my knee so hard into a table leg that I have a rainbow bruise the size of a half dollar. I also managed to whop my ankle into a table leg in a way that made me think I have a new area on my body with funny-bone capabilities.
At one point, my husband said, "This is your table." True, it's very old and was the dining room table I grew up with and have had in my life all of my life. "How are you even able to hurt yourself on it," he asked while shaking his head in disbelief. For the record, he didn't even stub his toe. Not once.
Crazy Arty face. Love it.
We also joked about the benefits of such a team building exercise. Constructing new levels to our loves!
So many skills that can translate into making our marriage strong, Honey!
Oh yeah! Workin’ together! Solvin’ problems! Makin’ progress that is both tangible and visible! Oh yeah!
My husband, of course, seemed to be enjoying himself. I knew within the first hour that I may have lost him for the rest of the weekend.
You know what is helpful when you're sitting there, considering whether "hate" is a strong enough word to describe what you're doing? What is helpful is having a nice view. My husband, he is very handsome. I love it when he's all thinking and stuff. His expressions. His stern, thoughtful search for the proper place for the piece in his hand. His groan when Mav, who had been doing nothing noticeable, came and spit out an unknown missing piece on the floor next to him. His easy smile when Arty would steal his chair.
Hi there. I help, yes?
Saturday afternoon ended with what I assumed was to be a flawless finish - a nice home cooked meal. I like to cook for my husband. I'm no chef but I've made some tasty meals. I made the mistake of trying out a new recipe for supper. I have to preface this all by saying that I make an incredible jerk chicken. This was also called jerk chicken and was highly rated by a site I love (http://www.allrecipes.com/). It was a marinade (usually I just season and go). It was a very different recipe. It smelled great! But...
It tasted awful. How could something that smelled so good taste so incredibly bad? I would have preferred to gnaw on the puzzle pieces. Oh, life's little mysteries. My sweet husband said it was good and ate his and mine, then the leftovers the next day. His taste buds are beyond forgiving. I tried. Still, I know, not my best day.
At least it was kind of fun. That is as complimentary as I'm going to get. I do love being at home. I love being at home even more when my husband is with me. There's a calmness and a happiness there. Even in the face of an obstinate puzzle.
We'll probably be finding pieces hidden
throughout the house by kitties for months.
Despite the eye, neck, and shoulder strain, we soldiered on. It was worth it to see Pandora attempt to make a bed in the box top and to get the outline done.
I'm in a box!
Saturday night we moved it to a safe place, then got it back out on Sunday. We're nowhere near done. Why I thought we could just bang this sucker out, I don't know. I guess I'm just not puzzle people. This became clear after I started saying, "This puzzle can suck it" and other such zingers aimed at putting the puzzle in its place. Those started before we finished our first cup of coffee.
Someone is going to have to put a lot more thought into our next stay-at-home date (that someone would be me). Because I would prefer not to hurdle obscenities at our activity of choice. But, I like that my husband seemed to enjoy this. I think, if forced, I could learn to like this hobby if he really wanted me to do so. I like that it was a piece of art. Maybe next time, though, a puzzle with something specific on it. Focal point. Oh, and contrasting colors and shapes. That'd be nice. Maybe less pieces...
Wait... I think I'm just picturing an art print right now. We could make it interactive by... Not buying it already framed?
Now, I'm planning a date where we pick out a frame? After those 5 minutes are up, we go to Sonic, I guess. The puzzle is suddenly sucking a lot less as I am sucking so much more. Puzzle date now approved and applauded. Team Us!
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