Have you ever wished you were well rich? I reckon it would be quite nice. I have seen a 1000 piece wooden jigsaw with a barn owl on it that I would very much like to have a go at if, a) it was considerably less than £105 and/or b) I was so rich that the thought of spending £105 on a jigsaw didn’t make me cry blood with stress.
I usually get my jigsaws from charity shops. Sometimes I borrow one from the library. Occasionally, I treat myself to a new one but my budget isn’t anywhere near £105. Blimey. £105 for a jigsaw! How the other half do jigsaws, eh?
This year my Christmas jigsaw will be the one I bought for the first lockdown but didn’t get round to doing because the kitchen table became a school and that was that. It’s a Cold War Steve design and, to date, the most expensive jigsaw I have ever bought. It was considerably less than £105.
I just can’t get past that £105, can I? Sorry. I think my problem is that it is a really really nice jigsaw. I sort of want it, despite myself. The issue isn’t the price of the jigsaw (which is, I think, borderline reasonable for something so exquisitely designed and presented) but an economic system that keeps such jigsaws out of the hands of all but the very rich. Should jigsaw production be subsidised by the state? Yes. Yes it should.
Do you do jigsaws? Probably not. We can’t all be wicked bad.