Nothing beats these hot, southern, carefree days of summer, my best days for writing in between sippy cups, Nick Jr., laundry, and exercise. Nothing to complain about here. While I'm not much of a schedule-follower, I keep my writing tools (laptop mostly), notebooks, improving-the-craft books, and Youtube close by. When Toot and Puddle ends, I get to work. When my littlest one isn't putting on her own talent show on the ottoman, I get to work. After 25 jumping jacks, you get it.
This morning's agenda included a Disney Princess puzzle with my three-year-old, not the baby kind, either, but rather a 300-piece, you-have-to-concentrate-and-think-a-little kind, and I realize this is unproductive to my story I should be working on, but priceless to my child. Even though I enjoy her and puzzles, there's so much on my conveyor belt just waiting to fall in the next box to be sent along to the next thing, and hopefully eventually to packaging.
But, as I'm teaching my little one a good strategy for puzzle-doing, putting the borders together first, and sorting colors and like-designs into flat piles where they will go in the puzzle, I can't help but think of it in light of writing a good book.
I see my outline with the borders put together, a bit more than an empty shell. I kind of know where things should go in the puzzle, but needs more to get a good picture of what it will look like (without using the cheat-cover). The puzzle holds with the edges locked. I have an idea of what it may look like, but there's no sustenance. Our strategy, fill a corner at a time while putting bits and pieces together here and there, filling in and celebrating at each fourth.
"We're almost done," Taylor says.
Yes, we still have two-fourths and a few holes here and there.
My eyes go a little crossed after a while as these are small pieces to allow for the 8-puzzles-in-a-box packaging. I step away for a breather and more jumping jacks.
Then, it's back to the beast and we finish, take a picture, and everyone (the two of us) is proud and happy.
I don't want anything short of a complete and beautiful puzzle (and wouldn't be the same without sharing with a child).
