We moved from Massachusetts to New Hampshire last June, and I am STILL unpacking and organizing my studio. There are plenty of things in here that I honestly can’t believe I moved — a tangled mess of embroidery thread, old patterns made of newspaper that don’t make sense to me anymore, etc. Today I had an “I can’t believe I found it” moment. These antique and handmade buttons have been eluding me since my last move nearly five years ago. I hadn’t a clue that they were in a small bag that was the smallest in a series of paper bags that vaguely resembled a crumpled Russian nesting doll set. Fortunately there’s no TV show for craft hoarders. Yet.
Years ago after my grandmother died, I inherited most of her sewing supplies. There were many interesting buttons, and I didn't know what to do with them. They do look pretty in blue Ball jars. I chose a pink fabric and started sewing buttons on, fishing out all the neutral-colored ones. This is the result. I lovingly refer to it as an exercise in futility, but because they were buttons my grandmother had collected, I felt justified. I also realized that my grandmother had likely moved with her buttons several times. You can’t fight genetics.