As far as I was concerned, it was just her and I. The TEAM.
We sat side by side, our foe spread in front of us, similar colors grouped together. Our plan of attack always started the same way...find and conquer the edge pieces first. The box was always propped on the table in full view. Good lighting was essential.
After the outer rectangle was complete, we moved to the most unique parts of the inner puzzle. In the areas that the pieces all look alike, the method was mostly process of elimination. Do the rest of the puzzle first, then the hardest parts.
My grandma was a pro and I her apprentice.
Elbow to elbow, we'd recreate the scene on the cardboard box in bigger scale. Each tiny fraction seemed undecipherable until one of us spotted its first match, then another and another until, piece by piece something recognizable emerged from the fragments.
I learned the subtleties of color. There are so many shades of blue and grey and green. My grandma schooled me in noticing the direction of the colors. Waves flow one way. Buildings grow another way.
We had a sense of accomplishment. I had the undivided attention of my grandmother. How can I not love puzzles?