Don't try this if you're rural--or live near water

Who doesn't love all the catalogs which start arriving at your door in October? And again, two weeks later... and two after that... and then with a new cover as a special Christmas sale just at Thanksgiving. I don't have the nerve--nor the disposable space--to save them all until January and then do a count and weight, although I suppose I could count them. Make a spreadsheet or something.

I flip through and shake each as they arrive, making sure no bill or credit card come-on has slipped between the pages. I keep those I've found intriguing and throw the rest. Mailbox, me, trash. It's a quick trip for most.

Those which make the intriguing list usually have coupons attached to the cover or come from museums or classy magazines, such as the subject of today's blog, The National Geographic.

Growing up, I remember the familiar yellow covers that came monthly. I'd look through them, fascinated, although I doubt I read many articles all the way through. Like Playboy, these were much more interesting for their pictures. But their shopping catalog is classy and fun and I fell under its spell.

While our children, like everyone else's no doubt, really like the check in the Christmas card, (or preferably, cash, since that'll save them a trip to the bank), I think everyone needs gifts to open on Christmas morning. Call them stocking stuffers, if you will, they're under the tree and the cats and Santa have frequently signed the cards.

Now, should you be a child of mine and reading this post and don't want to know what the cats are getting you for Christmas, you should stop now. If you don't care, read on.

Buried in the pages of the NG catalog was a puzzle. Not just any puzzle, mind you, but a 400-piece one of where you live, mapping courtesy of the US Geological Survey. It would cover 4 miles by 6 and have, as its center, a piece shaped like a house. Unique and so interesting and just right priced for the cats to purchase, I bit and ordered three. Santa was not going to leave me out of this!

Since my sons live close together, I chose one to be a first residence, up in Maine by Casco Bay. The cats may not be making any points with this gift because...

I'm putting my puzzle together. 400 pieces. 12x18. How hard could this be? If you have to ask... I live in a rural area. There, in the center of the puzzle is my house piece and the surrounding city limits. (The Survey must be a few years old because there are missing highways.) And then there's nothing. White space divided by contour lines and red dashes and numbers which mean nothing to me. I got the city put together and found the five main roads which lead out of town. The railroads. If there were telephone poles, I'd be following them next. What I thought would take an hour has become a three day project and I'm not finished yet. Every spare five minutes finds me hovering over this behemoth which beckons from the table in the living room.

So, the son with the city map should be okay in following streets and landmarks. But the one with Casco Bay... all that blue... and, no, the cats are not putting it together for him.