So everything in the house is still everywhere. I haven’t yet had a chance to set up my area. My go to place for all things mine including (but not limited to): My sewing machine (actually, my mother’s old machine it is not yet mine - I can’t even use it), My knitting books, My yarn, My sticker making stuff, My craft stuff, My t-shirt making stuff, My needles, My notions, My notecards, My inspiration junque, etc. (This area in Boston consisted of a bunch of tupperware containers in the basement. I still cannot get over the fact that I actually have room for an area that occupies space!)

When I need something I have to rummage through two different desks, a closet, and multiple plastic storage containers. This is a bit frustrating. However, sometimes it’s fun as I find stuff that I forgot about. Take tonight for instance. I was running around the house looking for a card to stick in a package I’m putting together for my favorite momba. (Kay - you’re not getting a card. I can’t find them. When you get a package with no card - you’ll know it’s from me, okay? It’ll be my “signature” move. Like Zorro, except not as cool.)

Anyway - so I’m searching for the notecards and I find a bag of buttons. Totally forgot about the bag of buttons.

These buttons were purchased at what I have dubbed, “A Dying Quilt Lady’s Sale.” Are you aware of these? Why we knitters don’t have such a thing is beyond me - because it is KICK ASS. Basically - a dying quilter (or dead quilter) sells off her stash to all her quilt buddies. The news is distributed via phone and email. Apparently you have to get there early because the good stuff goes quick. Apparently quilters really like a good Dying Quilt Lady’s Sale. And really, who could blame them? As much as I adore each and every one of my fellow knitters, I wouldn’t sweat being first in line to buy off their stash in the event of their untimely (or perhaps timely) demise. I mean have you seen some of the stashes around you?! And frankly, I would expect the same of you at my own Dying Yarn Lady Sale. In fact, I would be honored to have any of you first in line.

In any case, my mom went to one last summer and came home with this bag of buttons for me. The woman who had passed away was quite old - so I expected the button bag to hold all kings of good stuff. Except it got packed (we were still in transition at the time) and then unpacked into a little used drawer. Until tonight.

I found the bag while looking for the notecards. Perhaps I did not find the notecards because I found the bag first? That is likely the case as I was pretty excited to find that bag of buttons.

I poured them into a tin and started to gaze upon them. The composition is okay. There are some great vintage ones. But is was the inexplicable presence of some other items that really got me thinking: What does our button collection say about us? In this particular button stash I found:

• Buttons (go figure)
• Screws
• paper clips
• twist ties
• drapery clips
• head phone plug adapters
• pen caps (yes, that is a plural, there were multiples)
• a tiny light bulb
• and one plastic thing used to hold two socks together in packaging
• A circular piece of wood

I am surprised I didn’t find: coins, batteries, and other like items.

Seriously, who puts screws in with their button collection? And a tiny light bulb?! Perhaps the button collection doubled as a junk drawer. But wouldn’t you see some other items then too, like batteries or other such items? No it definitely seems as this was the “go to” place for some of these things. Apparently pen caps need a go to place (in my house we call this the trash).

And so, I thought - if you died would you be embarrassed about your button collection? What would your button collection say about you?

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day 5 - The eternal question: keeping your button collection tidy, equivalent to making sure you’re wearing clean underwear “just in case” you get in an accident?