Lately, several friends or acquaintances have told me apropos of nothing about how strongly they remembered - how much they lovedthe sensual experience of
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I wondered how many boys played with the buttons... or where they pointed toward handtools or knives or fishing lures or.... only after some formative years playing with boxes of buttons and marbles and sticks and rocks.
Why did everyone's mom or grandma have the tin o' buttons?? Mine had them too. All shapes and sizes and colors. Nobody EVER needed one of those buttons for actual sewing, though!
She kept the little pin cushions in there too, and I used to play with those (the ones that looked like tomatoes and/or strawberries)
My grandma tried to teach me that every house needs to keep a button stash, and a ribbon/scrap/twine stash... like, for *constant* use around the house, solving so many everyday problems in a family with a needle, thread, soap, wax, buttons, pins, rags, and yarn.
And ya know, so far I can't say that she was wrong.... But then again, maybe they don't need to be used to be valued. Like looking at marbles might be as fun (or more fun?) than playing marbles!
And the tomato pincusion with its attached strawberry sharpener/cleaner is a classic thing to need, alongside a thimble or two!
I inherted my mother's button box. I found a place for it in this little tiny apartment, for the reasons you cite (or don't) here. But my thing was (and still is) beach glass. I have a very large vase full of beach glass found walking the sands of Lake Ontario - in front of our cottage. I have some from the ocean beach on Prince Edward Island as well. And from beach front (also Lake Ontario) in Toronto and from the beach at Niagara on the Lake.
I can't picture what your lakeshore cottage looked like, but I can feel how it made you *feel*... just by you telling me about keeping some sand and beach glass from there.
I have little bottles of sand or grit from special places, too.
There are scuttling memories hidden between the crystals. The smells locked in time *and* place are alive in the sand.... you don't even have to *sniff*... you just have to remember and the smell.... arrives.
It was my favorite place in the world. Sometimes, here, when it's about to rain (or snow) the wind comes off My Lake and I close my eyes and smell. I miss it almost more than I miss my parents.
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I remember playing with buttons too...
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THIS is lovely. ❤️
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Mine had them too. All shapes and sizes and colors.
Nobody EVER needed one of those buttons for actual sewing, though!
She kept the little pin cushions in there too, and I used to play with those (the ones that looked like tomatoes and/or strawberries)
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And ya know, so far I can't say that she was wrong....
But then again, maybe they don't need to be used to be valued. Like looking at marbles might be as fun (or more fun?) than playing marbles!
And the tomato pincusion with its attached strawberry sharpener/cleaner is a classic thing to need, alongside a thimble or two!
Reply
I inherted my mother's button box. I found a place for it in this little tiny apartment, for the reasons you cite (or don't) here. But my thing was (and still is) beach glass. I have a very large vase full of beach glass found walking the sands of Lake Ontario - in front of our cottage. I have some from the ocean beach on Prince Edward Island as well. And from beach front (also Lake Ontario) in Toronto and from the beach at Niagara on the Lake.
I agree with Tony this is an amazing post.
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I have little bottles of sand or grit from special places, too.
There are scuttling memories hidden between the crystals.
The smells locked in time *and* place are alive in the sand.... you don't even have to *sniff*... you just have to remember and the smell.... arrives.
Reply
It was my favorite place in the world. Sometimes, here, when it's about to rain (or snow) the wind comes off My Lake and I close my eyes and smell. I miss it almost more than I miss my parents.
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Thank you.
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