January and February are not my favorite months of the year. Christmas is over, the snow is getting soggy and dirty, the yard is icy, and the sky is often a drab gray. The days are getting noticeably longer, though, which is the one good thing about this time of year.
Since the great outdoors is not inviting, I usually occupy myself in the house. I have plenty of things to do, more than I have time for, actually. In the past six weeks I have completed three jigsaw puzzles, mostly by myself, with only a tiny bit of help from a family member.
My sister, another jigsaw puzzle enthusiast, gave me this one for Christmas. She bought herself the same puzzle, completed it before I even started mine, and warned me it has lot of false edge pieces. Oh yes, it sure does. This was quite a challenging puzzle, but very pretty when completed.
One of my daughters gave me this puzzle for Christmas. It was much easier to assemble than the ornaments puzzle, and very enjoyable. I was done in just two or three days.
A good friend loaned me this puzzle several months ago, and I just completed it yesterday, about a week after I began. It is a 1500 piece puzzle, larger than I normally care to undertake, but it was fun and not too difficult. The different prints and color shades of the clothing were fairly easy to figure out, and I was amused to see some clothing and hair styles I remember from when I was quite young.
The local library had another Book Bingo card for January. I only read two books in the entire month, so didn't participate in the contest. One of them, The Paris Library, by Janet Charles, was suggested to me by my favorite librarian, as it fit into one of the bingo categories. It turned out to be an excellent novel about the life of a young librarian in Paris during WW2. It is actually historical fiction, based on a true story.
The other book I happened to have already read early in January, The Cruelest Month, by Louise Penny, was a mystery, but not a "cozy mystery", which was another category on the bingo card. Louise Penney's books are very well-written, and I enjoy the Inspector Gamache stories, of which this was one. I would enjoy them more if they weren't laced with f-bombs, which I find unnecessary and annoying.
The librarian showed me some books that are considered cozy mysteries, so I just grabbed one to try it out. I didn't even read it in January; I just read it this week. Quilt Trip, by Elizabeth Craig, was quite a contrast to the Gamache stories. It wasn't particularly well-written, was downright tedious at times, and I wondered why there was mention of dust specks dancing in the sunbeam while there was an ice storm going on outside. I kept reading because I did want to know whodunnit.
And then there are the grandchildren! Every other Monday evening I babysit Miss L. and Master T. while their parents go to a meeting. Miss L. is a very intelligent and stubborn 7-year-old girl, still struggling with being dethroned as the only child. If I have her over at my house by herself, we do just fine. When she is with her little brother, she goes out of her way to annoy him and generally be a pest.
The little Master T. is a 21-month-old bundle of energy and joy. I have never seen a child sparkle like he does! He babbles incessantly, with a rapidly-increasing vocabulary, some of which can be understood. I know he is trying to tell me many other things that still cannot be deciphered. I spend every other Wednesday morning with him as well, so his mommy can go to a ladies' meeting at her church.
I have spent a great deal of time with Miss C. ever since she was born to my youngest daughter, a single parent. Recently, I have been watching her every Saturday so my daughter can work one day a week while still finishing up cosmetology school. Her day care is not open on the weekends, or federal holidays, so I have bailed her out quite frequently. Miss C., at 18 months of age, doesn't have the vocabulary of her slightly older cousin, but she vocalizes a great deal and gets her point across with gestures from time to time. Her temperament is entirely different, too: she is prone to be moody and dramatic. I think a lot of it is because she is a girl. (Don't call me sexist; I raised two girls and I am a girl and I know what we are like.)
I have a knitting project waiting for me to get around to it, more books to read, and I just ordered a pile of prints so I can start in on my neglected photo album once again. Every now and then I remember to read a few Hive posts and leave comments, and even less often I get around to writing a post. I squeeze in a visit with a friend or two when I can. My life is not dull. I am not bored. I have more interesting things to do than I have time and energy to accomplish. But this is not a bad thing.I would rather have plenty of things to do than be sitting around watching soap operas (which I never do) and smoking cigarettes (which I never do) and feeling bored (which I rarely do.)
I often say I am as retired as a homemaker ever gets, and I am enjoying my retirement. The future is not guaranteed, so I do my best to enjoy each day as much as I can.
Keep writing, folks, and some day I'll probably read something you wrote!