Friday, February 28, 2014


I was feeling a bit under the weather yesterday. Nothing that a quiet day and some chicken soup couldn't fix. (And, indeed, did fix.)

Since I was going to be at home all day, I thought I would set myself to some sedentary tasks that I have long avoided. That is, doing some mending and sewing on missing buttons. And oh, my goodness, the pile of garments in need of this sort of attention had grown embarrassingly large.

So I set up shop in front of the gas fireplace, assembled my sewing stuff, and turned on some trashy daytime television to keep me company. And yes, we are the last family on earth to have an old-fashioned TV. We are far too parsimonious to replace this one while it is still working.

Speaking of parsimoniousness, look at this! I have an old Ball jar filled with spare buttons. This is, I am sure, a legacy from my mother and grandmother, two wily women who were affected by the Great Depression. From them, I learned the habit of saving buttons. Old, worn out shirts and blouses are never just thrown away. First, I snip off all of the usable buttons and pop them into this jar. Then, the larger sections of cotton fabric are cut into dust cloths. I can't not do this. I think it is in my DNA.

With this ample collection of recycled buttons, it was pretty easy to match and replace those gone missing from the shirts still in use. And after a couple of hours of steady work, a good number of clothing items have gone back into service.

Grandma Holmes would be proud of me.