When the daylight has faded

Fitting in the pieces

My eyes are on a swivel. There, another green bit. I grab it and keep looking. Ah, another one, and another.

With a handful of green bits, I sink into the chair and get to work.

My dining room table, abandoned since the introduction of the Covid restrictions, has come back to life. An explosion of colour on differently-shaped cardboard box pieces, designed to offer escape and joy, is decorating the table's surface. Soft music is playing in the background, and the twins are finally asleep.

The jigsaw puzzle box has been returned to the cupboard. No cheating! This is about the journey, not the destination.

I manage to fit the first two outside pieces together. Yes! A feeling of accomplishment washes over me. Only another 4998 pieces to go. Three minutes into the game and twenty pieces have found their correct place. By my calculations, this means a little more than twelve hours to finish this jigsaw, maybe less because the further you progress, the easier it will be to fit the pieces in. That means three or four days of joy. Yippee!

I pick up outside piece after outside piece, while my mind is picturing the last family parties held at this table. I smile.

One by one the pieces join. So relaxing.

Wow, I notice there are a lot of light blue pieces. Must be the sky. Fantastic challenge coming up.

Twenty minutes and a thousand tries later, I jump up. None of the bloody pieces fit.

I take a calming breath, sit back down and decide that I hate skies but giving up even more, so I go back to the green bits. No need to do the outside first. I'll start with the grass. At least you can identify individual blades here.

Another twenty minutes go by. I learn that individual grass blades all look the bloody same. I take the pieces and dump them next to the jigsaw, counting to ten very slowly.

Determination reclaimed, I turn to the birds. Proper shapes at last. This bit will get done easily before the twins, thankfully too small to reach the jigsaw, blow through the house again like two tornadoes. No problem this time because this beautiful puzzle will have given me enough serenity to get me through the day.

Why do all the birds have the same eyes, for crying out loud? And the same colour? And the same wings?

My blood pressure is rising.

An eye here and a beak there. They must fit! I press as hard as I can but the stubborn pieces will not join.

With a roar, I sweep the 5000 pieces off the table with both hands. The twins start to cry half an hour early, while I'm jumping up and down on the poxy pieces like a demented Rumpelstiltskin.

I grab my phone and dial a number.

"Thanks, sis! Great idea with the jigsaw. The washing hasn't been done and dinner isn't cooked, but I now have a lovely landscape on the table. I feel so relaxed."

Never one for catching irony, she replies, "See, told you!"