puzzled

The holiday fun got pretty intense yesterday morning (that would have been Christmas) when we (me, my cousin, and my sister-in-law) sat down to put together a half-finished puzzle.

• 9:00 a.m. Things were still friendly. Chatting ensued as we sipped coffee with eggnog.
• 9:03 a.m. The subject of the puzzle: a dog in front of a Christmas tree. Several key pieces were discovered in short order and put in their place.
  
• 9:07 a.m. I poured myself another cup of coffee. (Ash and Traci put in several pieces behind my back.)
• 9:08 a.m. Half the puzzle is now complete. Suspect that people are hoarding pieces to put in last.
• 9:10 a.m. The Christmas tree is more challenging than we all thought, it is decorated with infuriating ornaments in the shape of dog bones.
  
• 9:15 a.m. Still trying to put together the tree.
• 9:21 a.m. 7 pieces left. Trying to act like a lady, but really want to "win" the puzzle.
• 9:21 a.m. Ponder when puzzles became a competitive event.
  
• 9:22 a.m. Suddenly all the pieces are getting shoved into place. Three openings left.
• 9:22 a.m. But only two puzzle pieces left. Three openings. Two pieces...
• 9:23 a.m. One piece missing. A mad scramble ensues as all of us dive to the floor to search for the missing piece. Nowhere to be found.
  
• 9:24 a.m. Traci finds the missing piece sitting on the puzzle edge "blending into its surroundings." Puts it in place.

If you're snowed in (like we are) consider competitive puzzles as a way to end the monotony. Setting up the edges can be a bit frustrating, but the excitement only builds after that.

Featured with the puzzle pieces above is some of my own hand-spun. The leftovers from the stocking in my last post. Made from pot-dyed CVM romeldale top.