Columns

Lynna Clark

My beautiful puzzle came from the Our State store. Five hundred and fifty pieces of pure bliss awaited my attention. According to the front of the box, each area of the Old North State is represented. I could hardly wait to get started. Besides, the internet and cable were down; rain pounded the metal awning, and two of my eight year old grandchildren had just arrived. All things indicated a great day to stay inside and assemble a masterpiece.

Marie emptied all the pieces carefully onto the dining table. Wow. Five hundred and fifty pieces make a pretty large pile! Jesse propped the box up for easy reference. Their mom asked where they’d like to live on the map. Since their family had recently visited Cape Lookout, Marie pointed to the horses. “I want to live there with the wild ponies!” That was no surprise as the child loves animals so much that we’ve dubbed her Ellie Mae. Jesse however pointed to the mountains. Apparently bears in the wild are quite inviting to a boy who loves the outdoors. Their family hikes the mountain trails often especially if it means wading through an ice cold stream on a warm day.

“Where would you like to live Grammy?” They peered at me with wonder as if saying it out loud would make it happen. I pointed to the Cheerwine bottle right smack dab in the middle. “I want to live right here, in Salisbury.”

“But you already live in Salisbury!” They reminded me as though I’d forgotten.

“Yep. And there is no place I’d rather be. But I can always visit if you decide to live near the beach or in the mountains. That’s another good thing about living in Salisbury. It’s not too far from anywhere.”

They nodded as they considered their life choices then began sorting the puzzle pieces by color. It’s been years since I worked a big puzzle. Suddenly I felt a bit overwhelmed. When I was a kid the sensible thing to do was to gather all the straight sides, form the outer frame, then fill in from there. The kids however chose their favorite pictures on the map and began finding the pieces they needed. My phone buzzed and I’m glad I checked. The cable guy was on his way. Of course I needed to change into my “greet the cable dude” clothes since my everyday attire has devolved into whatever I happen to have slept in. The backdoor opened and thankfully it was the grandkids’ mother returning from her errand. Like a quick change artist I jumped into my clothes in time to greet the cable guy. Next came David home from work to instruct the repairman. The kids never looked up. I sat down again trying to gather my thoughts. A small pile of green straight edges greeted me. Surely I could make the bottom border. Glancing at the progress of the kids I found that Jesse had completed not only the bear but also Chimney Rock, the waterfall, the Christmas tree lot and a jug of moonshine. “Save all the red for me. I’m putting together the cardinal,” he instructed. Marie had the wild horses and several light houses finished. Quickly she worked her way down the coast. She gazed at me with sympathy. “Here Grammy. Try these pieces.” Sweetly she handed me two pieces that seemed to have no rhyme or reason. I couldn’t get them to fit.

“Switch them around like this.” Her tiny fingers showed me how. Eventually I got it to work. She held her hand up for a high five. “You did it! Now here are two more. You can do it Grammy.” Her sweet encouragement made me laugh. Apparently the brain fog from chemo a few years back is still in effect. At least that’s the story I’m sticking with. Absentmindedly I attached my little section to Jesse’s part where he’d not only finished the cardinal but had started the state flower. “Yay Grammy! Good job!” He too high-fived me before resuming his search for dogwood leaves.

Eventually the cable was repaired, the internet was restored and the rain stopped. But no one seemed to notice. We were too busy finishing the Moravian star and the Cheerwine bottle.

Home sweet Salisbury! Don’t I love it?! It’s really not too far from anywhere!

By Lynna Clark

Do you find it hard to buy for the men in your life? You’d think living with someone for nearly forty seven years would give me a clue. Nope… still clueless. Currently we are trying to improve our little love shack. Not a full blown remodel; just a few things to make our nest more efficient. Since David enjoys cooking I ordered a large slab of butcher block to enlarge his workspace beside the stove. The box was delivered to the front steps where only strangers venture. I mean really. Look at the entrance. There are enough spider webs covering that space to suggest it’s still Halloween. Maybe that’s why the delivery guy dumped the box on the ground beside the steps. He must’ve took one look and decided not to risk it.

Even though it was very heavy I figured I could slide the box around the house to the real door. Well, I tried. About three inches and several painful warning signs later it hit me. Apparently I am not a spring chicken any more. I have to say I was not quite ready for that shocking revelation. Sometimes life is just not very polite. About three hours later I got a Christmas miracle. One of our daughters and a grown granddaughter happened by and were able to get the box into the house. Those girls are freakishly strong for a couple of skinny chicks. I did a happy dance… actually a happy waddle and took joy in the gift that I knew my sweetheart would love.

Christmas morning came. I clapped like a little girl rejoicing that for once his present did not contain socks or underwear. He pulled his pocket knife out and carefully opened the gift. The look on his face said, “You bought me countertops?” So I explained how the piece would have to be cut to fit over the dishwasher beside the stove then fastened to the wall so he could “Mise-en-Place” [arrange all his ingredients] and chop to his heart’s content. Again the look. This time it said, “How wonderful… a project.”

I know this man. He’s not unkind. He just wasn’t sure what to do with his face. Then we pulled the rest of the box off his gift to discover even more wonderfulness. The thing was busted. BUT it was actually broken at exactly where we would have cut it. Though the edge is a bit jagged, we decided to use it rather than go to the trouble of sending it back. David stained it, sealed it, put it in place and invited me to see how it turned out. I tipped my head at the broken piece against the wall standing up as a backsplash.

“It’s like a live edge,” he explained. I looked at him wondering what to do with my face. He gave me a smile and I realized. He DOES like it! So we shall enjoy it just the way it is. Together throughout our many similar adventures we have learned that things do not have to be perfect to be good and useful. That wisdom along with so much contentment only comes with age. Perhaps it’s a good thing I’m not a spring chicken any more. To that I say, “Waddle on!”