I bid you welcome. I say it in a Count Dracula voice, since this is the night before my Halloweddinganniversaweenary Party (did you notice I didn’t say “wait for it”?). Last night somebody remarked that it was a Halloween party NOT on Halloween, even though the holiday conveniently falls on Saturday this year. Somebody else said, “It’s Orthodox Halloween.” Gee, I wish I’d have said that.
That’s all by the way. I guess I’m veering a little into Non-Sequitur Thursday territory on Lame Post Friday, but I feel sure my readers will forgive me. The fact is, I once again did not write a post while at work today. I was working on anacrostic puzzles in a puzzle book I just happened to have with me (why, no, officer, I don’t know HOW that puzzle book got into the bag of stuff I take to work with me) (that’s what I say to the Blog Police who would like to write me a ticket for three foolish posts in a row) (I say, put it on my tab, because it is sure to happen again).
Where was I? Ah yes, Lame Post Friday. I thought this week I would indulge in a little table-top psychology instead of my usual half-baked philosophy. The puzzle-book fits right in with today’s psychological observation (to make a break from random observations) (as you see, I am taking NO break from parenthetical comments).
Many years ago, a roommate of mine LOVED to do jigsaw puzzles, and she was very good at them. One day she wondered why she loved them so much.
“It’s bringing order out of chaos,” I said, as if it were obvious. She laughed at my table-top psychology. At least, she did not accuse me of table-top psychology in so many words, but I got the expression from stories about her mother. Her mother, a wise and witty woman taken from us much too soon, apparently indulged in a great deal of table-top psychology, always using that self-deprecating term to excuse herself.
I thought about this little exchange when I began to wonder why I love to do cryptogram puzzles. The answer came to me right away: looking for meaning in gibberish. That works for anacrostic puzzles too. I was so pleased with my insight that I posted it on my friend’s Facebook page (as regular readers know, Facebook is an important part of my life; I don’t know why I haven’t created a Facebook page for the blog yet). She commented that I was right and that jigsaw puzzles were also a form of meditation for her.
I say this is cool. And I just thought of my title for today’s post. I am especially pleased that, even though this is a foolish post, I did not whine about not being able to write one. I hope you are all having a lovely Friday.