Sorting through the buttons in Grandmother's button box has been a pleasant activity, almost meditative. Brown ones here, black ones there. And white ones - the most plentiful - right there. Once I had them sorted by color, I sorted them by number of holes, and then by size. Finally, I've been able to put families of buttons together.
On the one hand, it's kind of nice to have my little buttons all sorted out and in shiny ziptop bags. They look so neat and orderly, ready to head off to their new homes. But as I'm listing them, I'm getting nostalgic. Nostalgic over buttons I've never even seen? Yeah.
I'm feeling a little guilty for not keeping them and putting them to good use. Good use? Really? Although I was once a darn good seamstress, I haven't sewn in easily a decade. How on earth could I use up hundreds of buttons? And I have my own collection growing in my sewing box upstairs should a button go missing from some of my clothing.
And what about making something with them? They're great for altered art projects or collage. So, yes, I may keep some. But I'm putting the rest in the shop:
Please take a look. Photographing them has actually been fun. I'm finding they have wonderful character all their own. I'm getting some photos with nice abstract qualities.
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