Do you like to solve crossword puzzles? I do. Sam’s not much help though, he just lies on the couch beside me and makes mooney eyes at me like he’s saying, “What the heck are you doing,” or he grumbles these little guttural sounds to let me know he wants some attention or he barks at me to play with him or take him outside.
I don’t generally like puzzles, certainly not the kind with 500 or 1,000 pieces you put together to make a picture, and certainly not Sudoku. Kathleen likes Sudoku but that’s because she’s good with numbers. I’m better with words. Kathleen’s left-handed too while I’m right-handed. I suppose that really doesn’t have anything to do with anything but it makes me suspicious.
Some days I can whip through a crossword puzzle in an hour or so. It’s really ego satisfying to be able to do that. Sometimes I can barely think of words for any clues. Most of the time I can at least come up with the right words for about half or two thirds of a puzzle. It’s frustrating not to be able to solve an entire puzzle, but I suppose it’s a good life lesson to realize I can’t always win. Of course that attitude totally flies in the faces of the people who say “you only have to believe.”
Ri-i-i-ght!
On the other hand, my mother used to believe that she and I could come up with 300 pinochle every time we played partners against my dad and my former wife. And it was uncanny how often mom and I did manage a 300 pinochle (you know what I’m talking about?). That always drove my father crazy. He was the kind of guy who counted cards and what tricks were still out against him and played very precisely. Mom and I mostly winged it and hoped we’d get lucky.
The only problem with being my mother’s partner was the fact that she thought it was okay to cheat. She would try to signal me across the table to let me know what kind of hand she held by throwing things at me or kicking me under the table. Too bad for her I was so honest I wouldn’t go along with her efforts to cheat.
So, what I’m getting at here the long way around is the fact that I don’t cheat at crosswords either. I think if I can’t figure out the right word to go with a clue, that’s my problem. I will keep a half completed crossword around for several days and whittle away at them a word here or a word there trying valiantly to complete the puzzle. Sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn’t.
Clues that really drive me crazy are the stupid, vapid, obnoxious and totally obtuse ones like, “Jiff,” for a three-letter word. What???? Or how about the clue, “musical number,” for a four-letter word?
Well, here’s a clue for a four-letter word - it smells like dog doo-doo. Three bags of that four-letter word on crosswords that are too tough to finish.
I don’t generally like puzzles, certainly not the kind with 500 or 1,000 pieces you put together to make a picture, and certainly not Sudoku. Kathleen likes Sudoku but that’s because she’s good with numbers. I’m better with words. Kathleen’s left-handed too while I’m right-handed. I suppose that really doesn’t have anything to do with anything but it makes me suspicious.
Some days I can whip through a crossword puzzle in an hour or so. It’s really ego satisfying to be able to do that. Sometimes I can barely think of words for any clues. Most of the time I can at least come up with the right words for about half or two thirds of a puzzle. It’s frustrating not to be able to solve an entire puzzle, but I suppose it’s a good life lesson to realize I can’t always win. Of course that attitude totally flies in the faces of the people who say “you only have to believe.”
Ri-i-i-ght!
On the other hand, my mother used to believe that she and I could come up with 300 pinochle every time we played partners against my dad and my former wife. And it was uncanny how often mom and I did manage a 300 pinochle (you know what I’m talking about?). That always drove my father crazy. He was the kind of guy who counted cards and what tricks were still out against him and played very precisely. Mom and I mostly winged it and hoped we’d get lucky.
The only problem with being my mother’s partner was the fact that she thought it was okay to cheat. She would try to signal me across the table to let me know what kind of hand she held by throwing things at me or kicking me under the table. Too bad for her I was so honest I wouldn’t go along with her efforts to cheat.
So, what I’m getting at here the long way around is the fact that I don’t cheat at crosswords either. I think if I can’t figure out the right word to go with a clue, that’s my problem. I will keep a half completed crossword around for several days and whittle away at them a word here or a word there trying valiantly to complete the puzzle. Sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn’t.
Clues that really drive me crazy are the stupid, vapid, obnoxious and totally obtuse ones like, “Jiff,” for a three-letter word. What???? Or how about the clue, “musical number,” for a four-letter word?
Well, here’s a clue for a four-letter word - it smells like dog doo-doo. Three bags of that four-letter word on crosswords that are too tough to finish.
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