I inherited buttons. Lots of buttons. As a child, if I was sick, I could play with the drawer full of buttons in my mom's sewing machine. It was fun to sort through them and lay them out on in lines between the tufts of the chenille bedspread. My brother had marbles. But, I had buttons.
I've been collecting my mustard jars, thinking they are just so cute they would make good altered art projects. Snowmen? Holding a little garden fairy? Verses? Meditations? Words to compose poetry? Being in my use it or lose it mode - I decided to sort my buttons into the jars. That way I can admire them and find what I want quickly. Here's a pic. They make a nice paper weight as well.
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