Button, Button, Who’s Got the Button?

Was visiting Mom yesterday at the nursing home for Christmas, and for whatever reason, we were talking about buttons. And that reminded me of the old “button can”.

I know we weren’t the only one with one, but ours was an old biscuit tin, battered and faded and worn from likely decades of handling, similar to, yet totally unlike this pristine one here.

I can’t remember where it was when our old pantry was actually used as a pantry, rather than a porch/entry way, but perhaps it was the same place.  We had a narrow opening in there, with small shelves, and hooks for brooms and mops, known, oddly enough, as the broom closet! Those were kept “clicked” in these kinds of holders. We kept the can on one of the shelves in there.

Everytime there were extra buttons on anything, or one was found I guess, it went into the button can, and many a time when one of dad’s shirts for works went missing one, it was pulled out to look for one that was a match, or at least similar.

And not only shirt buttons, but also coat buttons, with their different backing.

What was very surprising, at least in my memory now, is how often we actually found a match!

Not a very Christmasy post, but was what was brought to mind yesterday.  Merry Christmas everyone!

The Night of the Broom

Many years ago, a man who shall remain nameless used to drive around with several shovels, and a broom standing in a rack in the back of his pickup.  I really have no idea why, I can only assume it was a target for some mischievous young lads.  I really can’t think of any other reason.

Of course, lads being what they are, enterprising and all, accepted the target and made plans to do something about it. Not bad at heart though, they didn’t plan any destruction or damage.  They just realized that a mop was a much more suitable thing to have in the rack than a broom.

There being an old mop laying near the old, and at the time closed down, Cormack/Island Lounge on Elliott’s Cove Road, they considered that a suitable replacement.

One dark night, those lads, with perhaps some liquid persuasion, proceeded to carry out their plan, driving to a community some distance from their own, and staking out the scene.  Parking off at a distance, some of the lads proceeded to sneak through tall grass and approach the truck in question.  Replacement of the broom ensued, and much hilarity was had.

Of course all this is hearsay…. But I wonder whatever became of the broom?