Crossword puzzles, my father, and me

When I was a young girl, I remember watching my dad do crossword puzzles.  He always seemed to be doing them.  He would have one on his lap, his big dictionary by his side, occasionally looking up over the top of his reading glasses (no varifocal lenses in those days,) to glance at the television, or speak to someone.

He would explain the clues to me.  'When it says, 'mixed' or something like that, it means it's an anagram.'  He showed me how to arrange the letters in a circle.  'That way, you can sometimes see the answer quite easily.  When it says 'top', or 'back' or something like that, it means that you put the words backwards.'  The tips were endless, and I always thought he was so clever.  I think I must have been about eleven or twelve at the time.

He's passed on his love of crosswords to me, although I have nowhere near his cleverness at completing them.  But every time I do one, and I mean every time, I think of him, sitting in his armchair busying away at the latest one, occasionally looking over the top of his glasses.

I don't have time to do crosswords all day, so I dip in and out of them, keeping them on my trusty clipboard.  It might take me a week to complete, but I don't care, it's just a little 'thing' I have.

It's a great shame that he never discovered this craze...

Sudoku!  He would have loved it, as his greatest passion was numbers.  He died many years ago, but is always with us all in many different ways.  For me, it's the crosswords, among other things of course.