As if to prove my point ...

It is perhaps a universal truth that once you notice something for the very first time - no matter how revelationary - you thereafter start to see evidence of that very thing all around you in everyday life.

It is this slightly mocking phenomenon that can lead one into asking the question: "... just how did I not notice that before?"

Indeed, barely one week after posting my piece on 'Jigsaws from Charity Shops - Sheesh!' [12/04/09], I was confronted with the following distressing scene outside my local high street thrift-shop.

Could I really not have known that my beloved jigsaw might not have been fully complete? Oh, how I am mocked!


If there is any consolation to be had at all, then it is at least that the next person who will get this [pictured] jigsaw, will at least have a set that is even less complete than the one I got - poor soul! I'll keep an eye out for their blog ...

Jigsaws from Charity Shops - Sheesh!

Alright, so I know that many people will already have worked this out; but I only just learned that you're on to a real loser when you buy a second-hand jigsaw from a charity shop!

I was so excited - sad but true - when I found the 1000 piece picture by David of Napoleon Bonaparte's imperial coronation. It totally connected with the deep histo-geek in me.

Any cautionary feelings that I may have felt about the completeness of the set were skillfully nullified by the assurance of the sweet-old-lady volunteer who noted that it was "guaranteed complete". I think I may have made a vague mental presumption that the 1000 pieces had been hand-counted by a crack team of sweet-old-lady volunteers. However, I now realise with the benefit of hindsight that this was a grossly naive misconception on my part.

It’s not the 2 quid spent that I resent - that went to charity. No, it’s the three obsessive days that it took me and several others to realise that we were only two miserable pieces short of achieving our master piece! Arghhh!

They say that on his death bed, the emperor Augustus vainly cried out for the return of the imperial eagles that had been shamefully lost to Roman arms at the massacre of the Tuetenberg Forest. If that be true, I believe that on my death bed I may well cry out for those lost pieces of jigsaw that were so cruelly and fatefully denied to me.

On the other hand, I may just have to let the pain go and chalk this one down to experience ...