Between jigs and reels

Ah Christmas. When everything is a bit exaggerated. Reg'lar Sunday dinner might be roast chicken or roast pork; Christmas is turkey AND ham. Too much drink; too much food; too much regrettable honesty; far too many dishes to wash. For the last tuthree years in the family we've scotched Too Much Stuff with a Secret Santa for all the over-12s. This year the rule was "home-made or re-gifted" which didn't do much for the economy but was good for social capital and creativity. I received a home-made jigsaw, which added an addition level of challenge because the pieces (cut with scissors) wouldn't sit flat on the tray and didn't really lock together -- but the picture was hand-drawn and -coloured so t'was a labour of love; which is always better than any labour of card. 

In short order, we secured the edgy bits and the central word  áthas ; was feeling pretty smug until I found three more edgy bits in the general piece store. But that was soon resolved and:

It is not clear at this stage whether the frame and word need rotated 180°. The End Game posed a problem because the design consisted of several very similar yellow and orange Celtic knots interlocking across a ground consisting of Swiss crosses and squares. But within 30 hours, with a little help, and breaks for more food I was able to pop the final piece into my 2024 Christmas present:

Done! áthas is joy in English. ath [no fádá] is a ford . . . as in Baile atha Cliath [town of the ford of the wicker hurdles] aka Dublin. athair [no fádá] is father aka Patriarch. That would be me nowadays: gazing across the dinner table at the grandchilder with eyes slightly squiffy from drink. Joy to the world at Christmas.