Valerean

This vintage cross-stitched piece, labeled as a dragon napkin, is one of four finds I made in May at our local antique mall. I love this one booth where the owner staples reproductions of old photos to bags of stuff. These blue buttons will embellish a lot of projects now and in the future. Have to support our local beaders, so I picked up this pretty bracelet for Kat. Finally I invested in a jar of jewelry and beads. Stop buy tomorrow and I'll show you what's inside.

Still working on the beach bag. I found a card of vintage fish buttons, so small they had to be for baby garments, and incorporated them as an embellishment. I don't know why I think fish buttons are so cute, but I'm allowed. I should have this wrapped up and reassembled in another day or two; just have to find the right lining fabric and add a few more stitches here and there.

Buttons were my jewels of childhood. When I was sick, my grandmother would give me her button box to keep me occupied. I'd match the buttons, count them, and pick out the ones I thought were the prettiest. Even before I started writing, I'd tell myself very improbably stories about the buttons: the wooden ones once belonged to Robin Hood, the military brass buttons had come from General Grant's uniform jacket, the rhinestone buttons had fallen off from Grace Kelly's wedding gown, etc. Often I'd pretend to be a pirate with a chest of treasures and hide the button box somewhere in my room so I could draw a map to it. When my grandmother passed away my mother asked us what we wanted of hers as a remembrance. My sisters both asked for her jewelry; I asked for her button box. Although it doesn't look like much, to this day it's one of my most prized possessions: I'm writing this post on my grandmother's birthday. It's been forty-one yea...

This week I acquired some lovely antique treasures: These abalone shell buttons are circa 1900, and still on the original card. Here's a bit of button trivia: despite their country of origin nearly all button cards from the late 19th/early 20th century were marked either Haute Nouveaute or Nouveaute ; it translates to "newest" or "finest" in fashion. Using French made them seem more oo-la-la, no doubt. Anyway, they'll be embellishing future blocks for my silk crazy quilt. This wee cloisonne chest contains a lovely surprise. A silver-plated embossed brass thimble, inscribed with the words "Recordacao De Portugal" (souvenir of Portugal) that fits my thimble finger perfectly. This hand-pieced bear paws patchwork, circa 1880, has beautiful points and lovely stitching. The fabric is not rotted, so it probably sat in a hope chest somewhere for 140 years. There's a bit of light staining that I'm going to try to soak out, but eve...