Sister Of The Divide: October 2026

The days are getting shorter here in Idaho, the harvest is being gathered in.

The mornings have that unmistakable chill, the leaves are changing, and winter isn't very far away. Before we know it, we'll be pulling out the warm blankets, putting something comforting on the stove and settling in for those long winter evenings at home.

And lately I've been thinking about the things we do when we slow down and spend time together.

For our family, some of the best moments have never been the elaborate ones.

They're the ones around the table.

A good meal. A cup of hot cocoa. Stories we've heard a hundred times but somehow still enjoy hearing again.

And maybe a puzzle spread out in the middle of it all.

There's Something Special About a Puzzle on the Table

You don't really have to announce that it's time to work on a puzzle.

You just put it out.

Someone walks by and finds a corner piece.

Someone else notices two pieces that surely must go together.

A grandchild joins in. Then Mom sits down. Grandpa wanders over because everyone else seems to be having entirely too much fun without him.

Pretty soon, what started as a box full of little pieces has become an afternoon spent together.

There's conversation.

There's laughter.

There's always that one piece everyone has been looking for that turns out to have been sitting in plain sight the entire time.

And inevitably someone says, “Don't you dare put that last piece in without me!”

Those are the moments I love.

And Sometimes Quiet Is Just as Wonderful

Of course, you don't need a houseful of family to enjoy a puzzle.

There is something equally lovely about working on one by yourself.

A cold afternoon. A favorite chair nearby. A warm cup of herbal tea. Maybe some music playing in the background.

And for a little while, the rest of the world can wait.

Your mind becomes occupied with color and pattern. You're looking for shapes, noticing tiny details and trying to remember where you saw that particular bit of red or blue.

One piece.

Then another.

Then suddenly an entire section comes together.

It's relaxing and engaging at the same time — and a rather nice alternative to spending another evening staring at a screen.

Come to think of it, that may be one reason puzzles appeal to me so much.

They're really not that different from quilting.

We've Been Putting Pieces Together All Along

As quilters, we understand the satisfaction of taking individual pieces and creating something whole.

We notice color.

We recognize patterns.

We study shapes.

We move things around until they fit.

And we've been known to spend an unreasonable amount of time looking for one particular piece of fabric that we know is here somewhere.

Sound familiar?

So perhaps my wandering from quilt pieces into puzzle pieces wasn't really much of a wandering after all.

That's How the Sister of The Divide Puzzles Began

I've accumulated a lifetime of things that mean something to me — photographs, flowers from my garden, quilts, artwork, beautiful places we've visited and some wonderful old sewing treasures.

I have jars of vintage buttons and boxes filled with old notions. There are wooden spools that have passed through other hands and little packages of sewing supplies from another era.

I even have vintage seam binding from JCPenney with the original price still marked on it:

8 cents.

I love that stuff.

They're little pieces of our sewing history, and I started wondering...

Wouldn't these make wonderful puzzles?

That thought became Threads of the Past, a puzzle featuring vintage sewing spools that were gifted to me by a retire home economics teacher, Joann. I made that picture into a puzzle years ago but it was really cost prohibitive to reproduce for my friends and followers. Times have changed! Now we have print on demand and FREE shipping!

And once that door opened, there was really no closing it.

Especially once Buddy found out.

Of Course, Buddy Needed a Puzzle

Buddy came into our family nine years ago after I walked into an animal shelter during my lunch break.

He was a tiny kitten then, and apparently he had already decided who was taking him home.

His name at the shelter was Mr. Peanutbutter.

No.

Just...no. 😂

He instantly became our Buddy, and he's been part of our family ever since.

So naturally, Buddy now has his own puzzle. How could I not? I was captivated by those eyes from the moment I first saw him. My little rescue kitty!

And I have a feeling this is only the beginning.

A Gift That Becomes Time Together

With Christmas coming, I've also been thinking about gifts.

The older I get, the more I appreciate gifts that aren't simply things.

I love gifts that create an experience.

A puzzle can do that.

You can choose one because the picture reminds you of someone you love. Give it to a friend who quilts. Send one to an animal lover. Tuck one under the tree for the family.

And then something rather wonderful happens.

After the wrapping paper is gone and Christmas morning has passed, the gift is still waiting.

Maybe it comes out that afternoon.

Maybe everyone gathers around after dinner.

Maybe it stays on the table for several days while family members add a few pieces whenever they walk past.

The puzzle becomes part of the visit.

Part of the conversation.

Part of the memory.

And isn't that really one of the things we're hoping for when we give someone a gift?

Come Sit at the Table

There will be more Sister of The Divide puzzles coming.

Some will come from my photography. Some from the garden. Some from my artwork and designs. Some may come from quilts, vintage treasures or places that have captured my heart.

I don't know yet where all of this will lead.

That's half the fun.

But I do know what I hope happens to them after they leave here.

I hope one ends up on a kitchen table on a snowy afternoon.

I hope grandchildren work on one with their grandparents.

I hope someone gives one to a friend and says, “I saw this and thought of you.”

I hope someone who lives alone opens one on a quiet winter evening, makes a cup of tea and thoroughly enjoys a few peaceful hours putting the world together one little piece at a time.

Because whether we're cutting fabric at the sewing machine or searching for that last elusive puzzle piece...

there's something wonderful about putting the pieces together.