Soothing Sorting

I found a big bag of buttons at a thrift store yesterday. Almost passed them up, but then I thought about sorting them...and brought them home.



And these sweet tea cups were there also. Never considered for a second to pass them up.



Sorting buttons is therapy. Soothing. Wondering what what garment the button was on when you see thread and wear. Who wore it and what the life was like for the woman who saved all the buttons of the worn out clothes. The colors of vintage buttons are perfect. They can't be reproduced. Especially when there is thread left or sometimes even a tiny bit of fabric attached yet to the thread.



I know sorting is genetic. I remember my dad heading out of the house and someone asking him where he was going. "Out to sort bolts." This is from the old house that was my Dad's shop. He put bolts, nuts, etc. in jars with the lids nailed to boards so they would hang where you could see what was in them through the clear jar. The house is falling down now. Many of the jars are broken. Many in places too dark to photograph well. I would have never described Dad as stressed. Ever. But, now I wonder if sorting bolts was his therapy.