I was on a mission. Leaping into the car, I drove down to the library. Fingers crossed, baby, fingers crossed. See, I finished a puzzle last year. Last month. The other day. Munda. Twosda, we took the puzzle apart, packed it up, and turned it ino the library from whence it came. Wezda, I discovered a piece had been left out.
Well, that sucked. The library was closed that day. I told my wife and set it aside. She agreed with me, “We must get that piece back into the box.” Way we talked about it, it was a whole Indiana Jones adventure in the making.
Tursda arrived, and we forgot about the piece until that night. Then a big Homer Simpson d’uh moment hit and I remembered the piece. So, today, I left early and took the piece. The puzzle was still there. Chuckling to myself, I opened the box and put the piece in. Whispers arose from the other pieces. “Thank the maker, our little missing green piece of window shutter has been returned.” “Praise the maker,” other pieces echoed.
I worked on a jigsaw puzzle throughout December of 2024. I started it towards the month’s start but don’t recall the exact date. Finished it last night. Sorry the photo is miserable.
I knew it’d be a challenging one. The stones, flowers, boats, and the myriad of background pieces would make it so. But I loved the scene. Reminding me of a few places I’ve been to, it invited me in.
I followed the regular routine. Edges first. Then I divided the tiles between sky, sea, boats, background houses, blue door, dark green shutters, cafe, plaza stone, bicycle. The pieces were put into baggies. I’d pour out pieces for the focal point I was working on and do that area. I started with the plaza but it frustrated me with its shadows and interlocking browns, rusts, etc. As it didn’t come together, I pivoted to the blue door and then the bike.
One major encumbrance to working on the puzzle is that there wasn’t a good photo of the completed scene. The scene’s bottom was cut off on the puzzle box front, and the birds were almost completely covered. While four views were offered, the other three were tiny. I looked the puzzle up online to get a good sense of everything after the first two days.
Between this one and puzzles done with friends, I worked on four jigsaw puzzles in December.
It was worth doing, and satisfying to complete. It’s still a place I’d like to visit. Have a little light lunch and glass of wine or cup of coffee and read a book, intermittently chatting with my companion as the water does its thing in the background…
Not a Wysocki, but a Buffalo offering, started at the beach in Waldport, finished in Ashlandia in August.
You can tell from the shadows and textures that this isn’t a Wysocki. He always kept it neat and simple.
We always start with the edges, so we had that done, and then finished it up to the top of the house while we were in Waldport. Then we used our La vie vert Puzzle Mat to roll it up and bring it home. The mat worked as expected, and no breaks or losses were experienced.
Lots of great focal points. We started with the Torpedo up front and the fishing boat to its right and the dog on the dock. After completing them, we attacked the flag pole, hammock and chairs. Next up were the truck and boat beside the house, and then the house.
I enjoy these Charles Wysocki puzzles. This one was comfortably challenging and fun. Working alone in the evenings, I finished it in four days. One thousand pieces, the pieces fit well, and the colors variations enlivened the process. Sorry it’s poor photo. Hope you can still appreciate it. Cheers
The cats and I agree, it’s a strong sun today, biting my skin with its heat, blinding my eyes (yes, what else would it be blinding — my ears?) with its light. Not supposed to be hot today, just 87 F, and it’s just 67 F now. This is Monday, Jun 24, 2024.
The cats are pratically living in the backyard, slumbering beneath bushes or stretched out, floof-napping in green patches of lawn. They come in to visit me, get fed, and use the litter box, and then dash back out. Reminds me of being a young child in the summers, doing the same with Mom. Except I didn’t use a litter box. Not in those days.
I jest, of course! Spoke with Dad yesterday. He’s down. They — the omniscient they here is the medical staff — are pushing for the dialysis port, and he doesn’t want to go through with that. He seems fazed by the surgery and claims he doesn’t want to be a burden on people, as others would need to drive him to his appointments several times a week. I’m sure he will go through with the procedure but he needs to work himself up to it. I called him this morning to chat with him but reached his voice mail. I need to call Mom to catch her up on that news. Never did call her yesterday.
Terrible flooding in the midwest. Iowa was severely hit. Evacuations were ordered and bridges collapsed. I remember flying over the plains states decades ago. The floating and the heat dome are connected events. Hope the climate doesn’t get any worse or the nation and its citizens might start getting worried. Yeah, that’s snark, baby.
My spouse picked up a nice Charles Wysocki jigsaw puzzle at Ashlandia’s library of things yesterday. I thought we should have some on hand for more Internet outages. We began the puzzle last night, even though the net didn’t go out. Lovely little beach scene featuring an old house where a high school kite flying club meets. Kites lean against an old fence in the sand and a heart shaped balloon, tethered to the gate, floats above the scene, red against a cloudy blue and white backdrop. A few sailboats skim choppy waters in the background. I can almost smell that ocean.
Other than these matters and the standard form of our days of eating, cleaning, writing, reading, it’s quiet. I accept quiet. Still recuperating with my ankle issue.
Today’s music comes by way of Willy Nelson. I was reading about his show cancellations and the article reminded me of a gay cowboy song Willy sings. The Neurons immediately began a little rendition of the song, “Cowboys Are Frequently Fond of Each Other”, in the morning mental music stream (Trademark grazing). Although Willy’s version came out back when Brokeback Mountain was gaining Oscar attention, I picked up a later version done by Willy and Orville Peck. Hope you enjoy it.
Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Also brace yourself for a busy news week. With more SCOTUS news forthcoming, the end of June sending up a cloud of dust as it sprints at us, and the debates and the weather, I’m sure there will be a lot to talk about, read about, and GRRRRR about.
Our intrepid band of three hundred million plus call Earthlings or Terrans come at last to the day noted as Tuesday, April 9, 2024. Once a date studied by prophets and feared by rulers, the reasons for that have been lost. Only one man knows the truth, but he’s been frozen and forgotten. And so we, the survivors, skip through this day not knowing its significance.
It’s sunny in Ashlandia. The sky’s blueness is marred by some lazy stray clouds hanging above the valley’s high edges, as though spying for an enemy ruler. Current temperature is in the upper 50s F. We’re shimmying toward the upper 60s. This is a fine example of how spring should appear in the middle of the season in Aslandia.
My wife and I have been involved in a jigsaw puzzle. She picked it up at the library of things last Friday. We began working on it that day.
It’s a Ravensburger, which is my favorite. Ravensburger puzzles have solid pieces which fit together well, and vibrant colors. This one is a tableau of a beach house living room looking out over the sea. A small dog rests on his bed in the foreground, looking back at you. His orange toy is on the bed beside him.
A coffee table dominates the center. It sits on a striped rug on a hardwood floor. Sharing its surface top is a tray of food and wine, a long scarf colorful with sea creatures and flowing aquas, purples, oranges, and blues, a gold-rimmed bowl of shells and starfish, and a plate of food. Sea foam green easy chairs and sofa are arranged on either side of the table. Past the table are open sliding doors leading to a deck.
Beyond the deck is the sand and churning waves. Further out are sailing vessels and a coastguard ship. Osprey and gulls wheel through light clouds and blue skies.
I’d love to live in that place. Wish I was there now, listening to the ocean and reading a book. Small stacks of books are on the sofa and the coffee table’s lower shelf.
The puzzle is coming together fast. We are now about 85% finished. Sky and sea remain, along with the birds.
It wasn’t that way yesterday morning. Back then, we had one edge piece missing. The coffee table was almost complete, and the dog and several other areas were completed. I’d say it was thirty percent done.
I was focused on that missing edge piece. My obsessiveness had kicked in. I hadn’t plan to work on that puzzle at the point in the day. It was mid-morning and I had things to do. But I sure wanted to find that missing piece.
Going through the pieces, I began asking deities and fates for help. None came but The Neurons, taking up my issue, began an ABBA song: SOS from 1975 began playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark sinking).
I found an American Bandstand episode with Dick Clark and ABBA on the net. Seeing Bandstand shook up memories like they were in a snow globe. Many teenagers and pre-teens hustled into a television’s presence to see the show in the 1960s. I never became deeply into it, but my older sister surely was. ABBA wasn’t a group I followed. I didn’t aspire to their style. But I respected their talents and their drive to succeed. There they were, doing what they’d set out to do. Congrats to them. I knew about them because AM radio broadcast their music. Then there were the friends who were so into them, too…
By the way, I didn’t find the missing piece and left for the coffee shop. My wife returned from her exercise class and answered the call, finding the missing piece. She’s my hero.
Stay positive, persevere, and Vote Blue this November. Coffee is being actively consumed in parallel to my typing. Hope you have the kind of day you wanted when you awoke this morning. Here’s the music.
Picked up a jigsaw puzzle from our local Library of Things earlier this month. 1,000 pieces, a Ravensburger offering which is a part of series called Happy Days. This one was of Weymouth in the UK, by artist Kevin Walsh, based on old photographs.
Yes, it’s missing one piece. While that’s disappointing, this was challenging and fun, an ideal way to start puzzles in 2024.
Wednesday, October 11, 2023, has landed in Ashlandia, where the cats are good-looking and the dogs are above average.
Rain showers are in today’s formula. But sunshines is also being ladled in. Despite the sun, our temp. now is 48 F and we’re only anticipating a 53 F high. Leaves are departing trees at this point. Autumn is cranking it into another gear.
We’ve started a new jigsaw puzzle, found in the Library of Things in Ashland yesterday. The puzzle features a lovely little creek tumbling over rocks in a forest. Boulders are on one side, while golden trees are on the other, a scene from our park which we’ve passed numerous times. Scripted words say, ‘Ashland, Oregon’ in two large lines at the top and ‘Upper Falls, Ashland Creek’, in two smaller lines at the bottom. It’s a fall scene, which fits right in.
Opening the piece, we found a note: “Missing piece”. It’s like, oh, curses.
We always begin with the edge and then build from there. It’s my wife’s favorite part. She usually drops out after that until it comes to finishing it.
Knowing a piece is missing, though, is a problem. Like, I’m putting the border together, and — ahem — a piece seems to be missing. But is it missing? I could just be doing the puzzle wrong. Or it can still be undiscovered in the box.
I’ve vowed that I’m going to mark the box’s front with the point that a piece is missing, and put a note inside telling where the missing pieces goes.
Today’s music comes from The Neurons. Weird dreams inspired them. Part of them was a military dream. Though dressed in a uniform, I desired better uniforms. To get them, I had to walk a tightrope, which I was doing well, but the other tightropes extended from the one I was on. With each step, the lights went lower until I was walking in almost full darkness, feeling with my feet.
Out of that came the admonition, “Take it slow.”
That’s a line from a Twenty-one Pilots song. Remembering it, I recalled a “Heathens/Stranger Things” mashup they did live in Romania in 2022, and went looking for it. “Heathens” was released as a single from Suicide Squad, a movie. “Stranger Things” is a popular Netflix streaming show. The mashup between them is terrific. “Take it slow” are lyrics from “Heathens”.
All my friends are heathens, take it slow Wait for them to ask you who you know Please don’t make any sudden moves You don’t know the half of the abuse
All my friends are heathens, take it slow (watch it) Wait for them to ask you who you know (watch it) Please all my friends are heathens, take it slow (watch it) Wait for them to ask you who you know
Since “Heathens” was circulating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark ponderous), I though I’d find the mashup and gift it all to you.
Hot, black coffee is being sipped as raindrops tat the pane behind me. Stay positive, be strong, and take it slow. Here I go, launching into another day. Enjoy the music. Cheers
Been a while since we’ve done a jigsaw puzzle in our house. We were doing one a month during 2020. That dropped in 2021, and we only did three in 2022. Part of that is my wife’s eyesight has diminished. She can’t see the pieces well enough, she says, so she sort of drops out of doing them once we find the edges and put them together. That leaves me to do the whole thing, which means more parceling of time. I become almost — almost, I claim — obsessive-compulsive about finishing them.
Anyway, here it is. We acquired it from our local library of things and will take it back there once we’re done. I love its colors and ambiance of a simpler Christmas, although it looks like it was staged in an expensive home! Cheers
I was a younger man. At first I saw myself from a distance, trudging over green rolling hills under a cloudy sky, but then I dreamed zoomed in and only saw myself from the waist up, following as I walked.
I was walking among grazing black and white cows. Most ignored me. I wasn’t concerned, and it seemed natural that I walked among cows. Beams of sunshine would sometimes break through and dazzle me, and I’d put a hand up to shield my eyes.
The sense or awareness came over me that this was familiar. Slowing and thinking, I suddenly knew that I was in a jigsaw puzzle. I stopped. My dream camera panned out. I could clearly discern the pieces’ shape. Some were missing.
How, I asked, is that possible? Where were the pieces? I thought the puzzle was completed. Then, I realized with a greater shock, how can the cows be alive, eating, and moving, if it’s a jigsaw puzzle? How could the clouds move and the wind blow? How could I be moving and thinking if I’m in a puzzle?
Michael Seidel, writer 