Puzzling.

I felt about twice my age tonight.

Not wanting to go anywhere, as tends to be my usual M.O. on weekends, I decided to do something I haven’t done in a long time.

I knew I had a couple of them in the house — completely new — that I bought a Christmas or two ago, probably when I was wandering through Walmart.

After creating a mocktail of diet 7Up, diet cranberry juice and water — lovingly poured into a martini glass — I sat down to tackle one of them. Correction: after I saw that Dirty Dancing was on TV this week for, like, the 6th time, I tuned into it, settled into my usual corner of the couch and then I tackled it.

What was it? A Thomas Kinkade puzzle.

The two that I purchased (and which have since been collecting dust at the bottom of a bookshelf) were beautiful winter scenes. Tonight’s featured a warmly-lit cottage by a gentle brook, with a bridge in the foreground, a snowy blanket all around and a pale sky painted in pastels that spoke of a setting sun on a chilly evening.

It’s a beautiful picture — on the box, that is. Trying to make sense of all the snowy white and sky blue puzzle pieces, however, was a bit maddening. The full border took me over an hour alone, so I can’t imagine how much time the rest of it will take.

No matter, though. Between wishing my knee wasn’t what it is and that it would allow me to masquerade as Jennifer Grey after a year or two of dance lessons (assuming I could find a dude on the planet who could dance as well as Patrick Swayze) and having a big night in with my puzzle — sans adult beverage — I felt like I was…70? Something like that. And it was the best ever.

Tonight I am thankful for the simple things in life, for the peaceful night in and for embracing a night that may be boring and puzzling to some, but which was simply divine to me.

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