Do the winter holidays ever leave you feeling as though you’re missing a few key pieces? Maybe you didn’t have as much fun as you thought you’d have, didn’t get the gift you asked for, or missed spending time with a good friend or family member. Or, like us this year, you sent out many more cards than you received and wondered if holiday cards are “out” now and you just didn’t pick up on that trend?
Our family metaphor for “the missing pieces of the holidays” is the annual tradition of doing an elderly jigsaw puzzle that has, to date, seventeen missing pieces. This puzzle depicts The Twelve Days of Christmas, with the added twist of gaping holes. We have other holiday themed puzzles (somewhere) but somehow this is the only one that we can find when there is some quiet time in front of the fire and nothing else to do.
Why don’t we just get rid of this defective time waster? Well, for one thing, the zen activity of jigsaw puzzling is made even more mysterious and wondrous by never remembering which pieces are missing. For another, it is symbolic of the way that, even if the holidays do not live up to the hype (when have they ever?), the best part of the season can be taking time away from hustle and bustle even if the end result is not one hundred per cent rewarding. Third, the hardest part (the numbers) is still enough of a challenge to keep us interested and add that sense of achievement even in the midst of regret over the fate of those seventeen missing pieces.
Like the smile of a child with missing teeth (albeit without the promise of growing new ones), the puzzle is endearing. And, even with some pieces missing, the puzzle and the holidays can be enjoyable and relaxing if we realize limitations. No one, and no holiday, is perfect. Make the most of what you have.
We’ve been spending a lot of time in Baltimore at the 
The concoction was featured on Sunday, when we attended the 
Till years later, when I discovered the authentic Virginia version. Because, though Georgians also claim the stew was first created there, in my opinion the Virginia version reigns supreme.
s (as in, the neighborhood kids since we only have one) used to play in when they were younger. I never noticed, but this metal gate has the name of 
at houses
dal Basin to see the blooms. (Full disclosure, this photo is of last year’s blooms.) We began to talk about all the things that make us grumpy while walking around the Tidal Basin during Cherry Blossom Madness. These include: Photographers who set their tripods up in the middle of the walkway. Parents with double strollers hogging the sidewalk. People jogging – really, you can’t find a better place to jog than a sidewalk clogged with tourists? People walking multiple dogs. Not just one little dog, but three medium to large sized dogs. On long leashes that get tangled around people’s legs. Oblivious people taking selfies with the trees. Kids who pick blossoms off the trees for a souvenir. Okay, so there are always too many people, not enough sidewalk, and things that are going to annoy you. But, still, the cherry blossoms are gorgeous and despite it all, you have to enjoy them and share them with everyone, be they considerate or not. The blossoms remind us of everything lovely and fleeting, soft and seasonal.