Thursday, November 1, 2012

Button, button, who's got the button?

Like my mother and both of my grandmothers, I have a button jar. Mine isn't like theirs. It isn't a pristine buttons-only jar. No, it contains all the small bits of things I think I'm going to—and often do—need: picture-hangers, screws, nails, thumbtacks, the little packets of thread given out at hotels, and, of course, buttons. I have the spare buttons which come with some clothes as well as the buttons that have fallen off clothes.
Today, I looked for one of the latter, a button missing from a blazer I think I might be wearing soon. And I found it. The button was there in the jar, waiting to be sewn on again.
Lindy, by Aleta
So, however, were the aforementioned picture-hangers, several different sizes of them, one size perfect for hanging Lindy's portrait. You may remember my post of the portrait I commissioned from Canadian artist Aleta Karstad as a gift for Dick when he had surgery recently.
After finding the button, I was feeling quite successful and pleased with myself, so I decided to frame the portrait, using the floater frame Aleta sent me. I think it looks good near Dick's recliner, where he can see his darlin' girl even when she's outside in the yard.
But what did I do with the button?
It's gone. I've looked everywhere I think might be an even remotely possible place for me to have put it. (There's a convoluted sentence for you. You can tell my brain isn't working properly.)
No, I didn't put the button into the blazer pocket. No, I didn't put it with the needles and thread. Those would have been good places, but I looked, to no avail. Nor was it in any of the less-good places, such as drawers near the counter where I emptied out the button jar. I didn't even put it back into the button jar. I took everything out again, just to make sure. I checked my desk, and the table beside my recliner (although I haven't sat in my recliner yet today) and all surfaces near the chair on which the blazer is hanging.
I've looked in my bathroom, and the laundry room, and the bedroom. I've looked on the floor in the kitchen and in the front hall.
Next, I guess I'll look in the kitchen garbage container (eeuuww, ick) before I arrange to have Lindy's innards X-rayed, but first I'm going to sit down in my recliner to watch some Home & Garden television. I'm always so impressed by people who do things, and do them well.


Leave It To Davis said...

Sounds like something I would do. Seriously. :)

Sallie (FullTime-Life) said...

At least you HAVE a button jar. I don't even think I have a needle and thread any longer. (Seriously. My life is all about jeans/shorts and t-shirts. Even my 2 sort of dress up outfits are 'soft dressing"). I hope you don't have to go through the garbage.

Dimple said...

I lost a library book yesterday. I knew I had brought it home, and that I hadn't taken it anywhere else, but I couldn't find it. I kept asking God, as I searched by doing some much needed straightening, where it was. Then, when I had finally quit thinking about it and searching for it, He told me just where I had put it the day before! I was very thankful!
He knows where your button is. Just ask, then listen!

Mara said...

I have a button jar as well. But I don't know where I put it. I know it will surface one of these days, since more stuff is being packed every day, but it is still annoying!

I hope you find your button soon and if you don't: find the biggest and brightest and sew that one on! Make a statement!!

ros@dimaggio63 said...

Molot bello il ritratto di Lindy... fantasmi ?
Si io credo che esistano !
Ciaooooooo :)

Fireblossom said...

Priorities, Kay! Lindy's portrait is what's important here! :-)

Daryl said...

did you check the pockets of what you had on? and where did you get the hammer? look there, possibly you put the button down to pick up the hammer

i am always helping Toonman locate the lost, the missing, the misplaced ...

Kay L. Davies said...

@ Dimple
Probably excellent advice, Louise. I might even use it if I had lost a library book or something else belonging to another person, but praying about a button seems... well, I don't quite know how to explain it, but asking rather a lot of my Higher Power, I guess.

Kay L. Davies said...

@ Daryl
Thanks for the idea. I wasn't wearing anything with pockets. I wish I had been, because I'm sure that's where I'd have put it.
I didn't think of looking in the drawer where I keep the hammer, but I did look in that room. Went back just now to look in the drawer, and found lots of other "good junk" under the hammer — and realized "good junk" is the bane of my existence. It never gets thrown out because it's "such good junk"! LOL

Kay L. Davies said...

@ Mara — Great minds think alike. I almost sewed on a purple button instead, in my frustration, but then I wouldn't have been able to wear the brown blazer because who wears a brown blazer with a purple button?

Sherry Blue Sky said...

You made me remember my grandma's black wooden button box, which I had forgotten but wish I now had. Remember the days when playing with buttons could keep us amused? or making little pig houses with playing cards and having the big bad wolf blow them down? No toys, yet hours of amusement.