Puzzles

 

From a very young age, there were jigsaw puzzles to make.

Neither of my parents were 'educated'.  My father never actually attended school because the schoolhouse in his village burned down.  His older siblings took charge of his 'education' and later mom figured he had about a grade 2 level.  

He 'drew' his signature, could 'read' a photo caption if it was about the photo contents.  He left mom to do anything that needed to be done that required reading.  He was a proud man and I think it pained him that people thought he was stupid, when he was just...uneducated.

Mom dropped out of school in grade 8, started working in order to increase the income level of her family, struggling through the Great Depression.  She was a teen and wanted some money of her own for 'pretty' things.

Her one advantage as a teen in Montreal was that she was completely bilingual - French (her first language) and English (her acquired language).

Both knew that the way forward for their children was getting an education and we were both urged to do well in school.  Not a big deal for me, a much bigger deal for my brother.  Nevertheless, they (we) persisted, and in spite of dad dying before my brother could graduate grade 12, my brother managed to get his grade 12, and went on to become a highly respected member of this community.

But, back to puzzles.

Mom wasn't educated, but had an intuitive sense of what children needed, and fine motor skills was one of them.  She taught me to knit when I was 5, other textile crafts followed - rug hooking, embroidery, sewing.  But she also provided us kids with books.  There was never much money to spare, but she made sure we had books, and I loved them.  I started reading when I was four because she would sit with me and help me puzzle out the words, until I could actually read, not, as her friends thought, just memorize the books and recite them back to her.

Our toys were also educational.  I had wooden blocks as well as dolls.  My brother got things like Lego bricks, just newly available from Denmark.  I had jacks and pick up sticks.  The neighbourhood kids would get together for Red Rover, Hide and Go Seek,  Simon Says, Dodge Ball.  But our individual toys tended to be quieter, frequently with fine motor skill development as part of playing them.

And jigsaw puzzles.  Every winter (and some rainy summer days) there was always a stack of puzzles in a closet to go raid and set up on the living room coffee table.

As an adult I still make puzzles.  I find them calming and a stress reliever.  They become a kind of working meditation and I can set aside current 'woes' and prevent frustration from turning into something destructive - most of the time.  When I'm sick I can still fiddle with puzzle pieces and it is with a great deal of satisfaction I plop the last piece into the puzzle and declare it 'done'.

But there are other benefits.

Building puzzles is a whole lot like weaving.  You have chaos, and gradually, bit by bit, you bring order.  Each puzzle is different, but the same.  And you never know what you've got until you're finished.  Well, sort of.  If you still have the box, you have the picture of how it is *supposed* to look.

But someone realized that each puzzle brand uses the same die and that all of their puzzles have exactly the same shapes, and began combining photos, just working based on the pieces 'fitting', not on what the image is.  And the results are quite hilarious.  Rather Salvadore Dali-ish, in fact.

This is not something I would ever do, but the act of 'rebellion' that came up with the idea makes me a little bit happy.  Talk about thinking 'outside the box'!

Jigsaw puzzles help develop fine motor skills.  Teach you to look for details.  To try and 'fail' until you succeed.  That if you persist you can bring order out of chaos.

I fell into a bit of a 'windfall' earlier in the year and bought some 'special' puzzles, in part because I found one in a local shop and really liked it.  After finding the company website and realizing that they had dozens and dozens of different puzzles, I splurged and bought myself a half a dozen.  I was 'saving' them for winter, but this interlude of 'bad back' which means sitting in the recliner or loveseat is painful, but sitting in the dining room chair at the table is less?  Well, it was time to bring the 'special' puzzles out.  

As I sift through the pieces, my eye picks out fine details - subtle changes in colour - tiny changes in fit - and so on.  And I reflect how all of these are things that I use daily in my weaving.

And I give myself, my body, time.  Time to recover.  Time to rest.  Time, that I hope, will allow me to get back to the loom soon.

(The rest of the story?  Mom went back to school as a mature student when I was 16 and got her Early Childhood Education certificate and went on to teach dozens of young children.)