I’m one of those rare people who has the patience for jigsaws. They’re a brilliant invention, perfect for manual dexterity and logic exercises in kids, great for distraction from addictions, a box full of tiny bits of cardboard. Individual quiet ‘yippee!’s for when each slots into its impossibly detailed place.
I got a 500 piece jigsaw of a bunch of Alsatian puppies for Puppychild recently. Who am I kidding… it’s really for me. She watches with mild amusement at the torture I seem to love so much but soon goes back to her kennel to thread beads. She’ll be there for that final twenty pieces, we have an understanding.
One of TAT’s spurious friends was visiting last week and asked if I was going to glue it to a frame, a lot of people do that. They don’t understand the point of jigsaws.
Jigsaws are one of the few things you can make which are designed to be smashed up again. Yeah you can leave it on the dining room table for months but people eventually get pissed off that they’re not allowed within five feet of it, so all those long hours piecing the whole thing together will have to be undone, destroyed and wept upon, preferably during a seance. That’s the whole fun of it!
Here for your amusement is a cat-in-the-box just in case you’ve mentally diverted from all the nerdy jigsaw talk: