Missed one

There are very few things in my life where my behaviour borders on the obsessive, but I’m afraid jigsaws are one of those, hence yesterday’s poem fell by the wayside. Managing an op shop, one of the hidden extra jobs is making sure jigsaws actually have all the pieces in the box. Thought I’d start a 750-piece Paris outdoor café scene, looked pretty simple, but once I started I just couldn’t leave it alone. Thought it might take me a couple of days, but as it wasn’t the standard 1000 piece I normally do, I began to think I might get it done in one fell swoop.

Afternoon cuppa over and done with, back to it, quick stir fry for dinner, back to it, the pieces were quickly being dispatched. By what should have been bedtime it was two thirds done, my back was sore, but could I walk away? Nope, not on your life. When you can see the end in sight it becomes rather addictive.

Three hours later, what should have been the final piece was locked into place, and the difficulty I’d had with the little patch of café umbrellas became obvious. There was one piece missing.

Aaah, all those hours wasted. Well, maybe not, it was a nice picture and I always enjoy doing a jigsaw, but the time had ticked away and before I knew it midnight had come and gone, it was too late to post a poem and was well and truly past the time I should have been in bed.

But not before crawling around the dining room floor, lifting this and uncovering that in the vain hope the errant little piece would materialise. No such luck, so it’s destined for the op shop Freebies table, but then again, even for free, who would want a jigsaw with a missing piece. No one wants to start a task they know they can’t finish.

It will probably end up in the fire.

Something missing

in the Paris café

besides me