I've loved puzzles for as long as I can remember. I remember going with my dad to work in the summer on occasion and sitting in his office back when he was afraid someone would call CPS on him for leaving an 11 year old home alone. I'd sit there in the summer, and he'd pack me a cheap lunch. I got to sit in his office and put together puzzles, or go through the gaylords of books. No, that's not an insult to those of us who are drawn to their own gender. A gaylord is actually a very large box. Approximately my arm span by my arm span, and as tall as my chest- I am 5'4.
The damaged books would get thrown into these containers unlovingly, slightly bent covers seeming to pout with lack of love. Scratched spines seeming to arch with the pain of not being properly loved and cared for. I would climb in with my new friends and dig for treasures.. And treasures aplenty did I find.
At any rate, however, I'd spend my days putting together puzzles. Or when Christmas came around, when I went to visit my mom's family, there would always be a card table in the corner with two chairs. One for me and one for whoever else.
I suppose part of the reason I like them so much is because there is that sense of peace you get from putting together 1,000 pieces of a whole image. Finding where everything goes, putting it in its place. Perhaps because I never had much stability growing up, I put a lot of stock into that. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment