Dec 16, 2020: More Puzzling

We finished the 2000 piece jigsaw.

Huzzah.

We left ourselves all the green pieces – and there were a lot – and over the space of about an hour and a half we painstakingly tried each one in each available hole until the puzzle was finished. Occasionally a wave of elation would pass us by as the piece we had went into the first space we tried. But those were few and far between. Even the last eight pieces took a ridiculous length of time to put in.

But we finished it. And it it was glorious.

Throughout the entire process, Carole said she wanted to study the finished thing because there was so much hidden detail that she wanted to enjoy. She looked it over for about five minutes and then just trashed it.

It took us quarter of an hour to take apart.

By far the worst part of doing a jigsaw is undoing a jigsaw. “Ah,” you think, “I really enjoy the way these pieces lock together” as you put them in position. But when it comes to putting it back into the box you hate every single one of those bloody jigsaw knobs. Each one can just get the frick out of town. It’s bad form, as I understand it, to just but slabs of jigsaw back in the box.

But it’s bloody tempting.

Obviously, now that one’s done, we’re onto the last Wasgij of the year. A Christmas play or some sort of nonsense. We’re doing the box image first, and secret what they see image later.

This is what we know so far – this puzzle is a fricking doddle compared to the last one. We’ve done a massive chunk of it already with very little effort. And that involves pieces with little to no pattern on it at all. We’re just flying by. If it wasn’t for Carole’s lack of stamina the bloody thing would be finished right now, and we’d be swearing at it all as we took it apart.

But, we’re not. Because she’s given it up for the night and I am under strict instructions not to do any of it. Or if I did do it, I then have to undo it, so that it can be done together.

And to be honest, doing it together is fun. Because it’s always good to hear a grown woman congratulate herself after every successful piece. She’s like Daisy May Cooper on Taskmaster, praising her every performance as soon as she’s finished whatever she’s been asked to do. It’s kind of adorable.

She’s still saying “It looks like this piece should go somewhere” though. Which is a bit worrying. Almost like she’s not quite understood jigsaws.

We’ll get there, though.