I know that I've already written a post about my amazing sister, but I'm about to write another one. She's great. She just is. She knows the perfect time to pull out a "kids incorporated" reference. And she also knows when I need someone just to listen and when I actually need advice. And she puzzles with me. Like 80-year-old women, we have a great time putting together jigsaw puzzles. As kids we used to gather around a huge Rescuers Down Under puzzle and always had the best time. To reignite our passion for puzzles, we tried to find a Twilight themed one, but had to settle for a photo-mosaic of Van Gogh's Starry Night. And it is so hard! After about two hours of intense puzzling we only got the border done. We were mildly distracted by Survivorman in the background and I'm blaming our lack of progress partly on that. But we rolled it up in our puzzle storage felt mat inflatable tube thing (that I'm sure has a real name, but I don't know what it is) and we're planning on working on it whenever we're together. Like nerds.

Yesterday, I found a puzzle piece on the floor of my bedroom. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. Ok, that's a bit of an overstatement. But still, I was worried that if there was a piece in my room there might be some in the car, under a seat, in the driveway, or in Puck's belly. Overcome with anxiety, I immediately unrolled our puzzle from the puzzle storage felt mat inflatable tube thing (I've just decided to call it a psfmitt. The p and f are silent). In my haste, I opened it on my bed. Bad idea. The border we'd worked so hard on was in segments. I moved it to the floor to reconstruct it. I did, and found that we were a two pieces short. By this point I was near tears, but luckily found the missing pieces on my bed. I replaced them and very carefully rolled it back up in the psfmitt. I carefully stored it and I am not moving it until Melody can work on it with me. I can't wait until she gets here so we can plug in our puzzle light and hunch over tiny interlocking pieces with a Mike's in one hand and the enlarged picture of the final product in the other. Good times.