Here’s the long-awaited report on the century old puzzle, Ready for the Dance. As near as we can figure, these puzzles belonged originally to our great-grandmother Samuella White. The date on this one is 12-10-25. I love how the handwritten label indicates it was sawn by ‘2’. I can’t make out the initials of the person who polished and finished it, but I’m gonna guess it was a woman.

Melinda said there were around sixteen of these old puzzles when they cleared out their father’s house. Each piece of this puzzle was marked ’15’ on the back in pencil, in Samuella’s hand. Imagine her taking the time to mark every piece, in order to prevent confusion among possible stray pieces from other puzzles getting mixed up in various boxes. The lids had no pictures in those days, no point of reference, which adds a completely different element to assembly.

Naturally, the whimsy pieces are not nearly as intricate, being cut by hand, as the modern Liberty puzzles are able to do with a laser. But there are still plenty of them, and they provide a helpful anchor for starting to assemble sections.

This particular puzzle was made easier by all the faces and figures it contained, as well as wood grain patterns in the floor, and the ceiling and furniture as they emerged.

A later hand noted on the box that two pieces were missing, possibly Granny but probably Aunt Nelle. I noticed a twinge of envy when Melinda told me that she and her brothers got to play with these puzzles when they were kids, “but only when we were sick.” So what! She still got to play with them! I missed out on an important piece of my rightful childhood by being the child of the son and not the daughter: I didn’t find the one puzzle my dad inherited until after his death.

My resentment is tongue in cheek, of course. I just like to tease my cousin. But every time I couldn’t find a piece for awhile, I wondered, Is THIS the missing piece? This uncertainty also added a novel element to the assembly. Once I had most of the faces in place, I began to have confidence that the missing pieces were the face and bosom of the lovely lady the man below is leering at so enthusiastically. I immediately conjured a story in which one of Mel’s nasty brothers pocketed the fair maiden. This provided endless laughs at myself as I completed the puzzle, and accused them to their sister.

I had imagined that Liberty invented the tiny-connection strategy, but with this puzzle I could see that it’s an age-old jigsaw puzzle trick. The merest tips of two pieces can provide the link.

Another thing I love about this puzzle is the image itself. Though old and faded, it remains full of vitality and action, with genuine connection in the expressions among the dancers. Unfortunately, there’s no attribution to the artist other than a faded signature in the bottom right corner. I suspect the images were created specifically for the puzzle company in those early days.

And here’s the completed puzzle, minus the missing maiden. A few spots where the image has peeled from the wooden pieces, but otherwise in remarkably good shape, despite the manhandling of my young cousins fifty years ago. Another thing about these hands-sawn puzzles is that though the pieces fit together well, they don’t ‘hold together’ well. I could see the sawyer’s strategy in following the shapes of hats, heads, and bodies, and even cutting the puzzle into rough sections before further delineating each piece. The puzzle breaks like a golf putt along certain lines. Time after time I jostled the edge with an elbow, or Topaz jumped up on it, and the whole thing broke apart. Fortunately, it was easy to slide together again.

I’m grateful for a new year and old puzzles, and for catching up with my gratitude blog. This all happened last week, and I’ve since finished the second ancestral puzzle, more about that soon. Meanwhile, last Thursday Wren saw the vet for a followup on her eye, and got a clean bill of health: no scratches, no lesions, just her usual watery eye. We stopped at the new ice cream arcade in Hotchkiss on the way home, to reward ourselves for a good job. I’m also grateful for this new business that brightens the downtown, and serves locally made, delicious ice cream. I chose Cowboy Coffee, and Wren got the tip of the cone.