A most interesting day. Meeting new friends and hearing their 'stories' is one of the great joys in life, especially when there is a particular connection of the spirit (as Anne Shirley would say 'kindred' spirits). I loved preparing for the visit, cooking soup, biscuits and fruit crisp from scratch, and basking in the sun that temporarily shone through the kitchen window.
A few weeks ago I had posted a notice in the local postoffice asking the community to donate 'recycleable' craft items: fabric, yarn, old buttons, leather coats that could be cut up, so that I can begin (or restart) a passion for making new things from old, with a view to selling them for cash to donate to local charitable causes. Lo and behold, while we were eating lunch with our new friends a neighbour from around the corner came to the door with a large coffee can full of old buttons. She said they were from her mother-in-law's home and they had been 'laying around' forever and thought I might like them for my project. I was so delighted and thanked her profusely, setting the can aside until I had the chance to take a good look.
Following our lunch, a good old chat, and a brief tour of Red Phoenix Farm (the stable/arena were my horses live, up the road) our friends were on their way. Following clean up, I grabbed the button can and uncovered delightful treasures... brass buttons, crystal buttons, huge old buttons (Bakelite?) tiny pearl buttons... I found myself grabbing several mason jars and sorting the buttons by colour: a jar for black, one for white/ivory, one grey, one for pink/burgundy/orange, one for yellow (yes, enough for their own jar), one for brown, one for brass/metal buttons and finally blue/green/purple mixed together. I left a number of buttons on their old cardboard backing (24 buttons for 25 cents!). The jars now line the shelf above what will be my 'crafting/sewing' table in my office. The point of all this is to comment on how incredible the meditative action of sorting buttons was... it was as though my brain were making effortless connections to each colour, sometimes needing to decide if a given button warranted the grey jar or if indeed there was a tinge of blue... why was I compelled to sort, sort, sort for an hour and a half...?
Rick pointed out that 'you are a classification specialist, after all'... and it hit me how part of my brain must be hard wired to be compelled to sort things into categories (I am a classification specialist in the International Classification of Diseases, Tenth Edition, Canadian version (ICD-10-CA) and the companion classification for surgery and health interventions - the Canadian Classification of Health Interventions (CCI)). Whatever the reason, when I had arranged these mason jars full of sorted buttons in a row it gave me inexplicable peace, as though I had sorted out some great mystery in my life. Funny, isn't it, how a random convergence of simple acts (sharing buttons) and intent (to make something 'useful/artful' to sell) can take the mind into philosphical realms. I will make peace with that part of 'myself' which seeks to find peace in the mental (and physical) act of categorizing, sorting and wrapping into neat bundles (or jars)... but not let it inhibit taking joy in the seridipitous moments of life which defy classification.
Janet, I use buttons at school for math work. In the fall we sort them, but last week we played a game with 5 buttons where we hid some in one hand and showed the rest. Our partners had to tell our "story of 5": 3 in this hand, and 2 hiding in the other hand makes 5! There's something about buttons, isn't there? I love the picture of you sitting contentedly, sorting through them. I have fond memories of playing with my mother's considerable button collection when I was little, too. I'm enjoying reading your blog! Thanks for the musings! XOX
ReplyDeleteI am excited that my Mum is going to give me her button box! Thanks for commenting MJ xoxoxo J
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