My Hunky is blogging. His flying fingers taunt me whilst I sit here and rack my brain, because sometimes, my brain gets clogged and the pipes that flow from my rapidly firing neurons to my set and ready fingers is very...very...very...s...l....o.....w. The problem is that I have too many unfinished thoughts, too many things waiting in "it's a good idea, but not quite refined for enough for public consumption" space, and a whole lotta filters for all of that to drain through before it gets kicked out here.
I worked on a puzzle today with my girls and my friend ( I can't decide if it's demeaning or endearing to include her in as one of "my girls" I don't think of her as a child but as she reminded my pre-forty self several times today, "She's not yet thirty!" ). The weather was rainy and blowsy, and I wore my pajama pants all day. We decided after she arrived to start a puzzle since it was a near death experience for me to try to get the Christmas tree out of the attic - a problem the Hunky solved in under three minutes. Curse male physique and my own midget-like limbs and stature!
I am aware that doing puzzles probably doesn't win me any extra cool points, but I do enjoy them, and generally the girls will all work on them for a little while. Today we all spread out around the card table and started sorting...edges first (always, who can put something together without the framework intact? ) Then the largest identifiable landmarks, eventually we will work ourselves into the nearly inscrutable details pieces that you twist and turn and discard and retry multiple times before you get a good fit. We're already nearly to that point. Several times today I got caught in some errors. At first, I put a section of the frame together incorrectly, which meant a big hunk was left out, and I couldn't figure out where to put it that it would fit. The second time I had a section of pieces put together, trying to fit into a larger construct, but I had them turned upside down in the alignment. I couldn't quite figure out how to arrange the pieces to make them fit.
Enter my friend, my girl. Each time she took a look at what I put together and immediately saw the problem, fit the pieces together correctly, and carried on with the rest of the puzzle (and reminding me how old I am, and at one point making a rather personal reference about the size of my backside.)
I think that's where my mental clog is now. I have many puzzle pieces assembled, and many more still sitting over on the table sorted by color and texture, but not really ready to be put into place yet. A few pieces need some time, perspective and different eyes to make them fit right. Even when I don't know what in the world to say, sometimes just starting the process and letting the words all tumble out on to the page to be sifted through and fit together makes everything a little less jumbled. Bear with me while I adjust a few more pieces and then we'll really be ready to get this puzzle put together.