Shells.
I’ve been doing Button Sunday posts since September of 2006. I feel like I’ve exhausted my ability to find new ones either among my own collection or online. I still want a Sunday theme. Not wanting to get locked in to any one topic, I hit on the word “sundries” as a word that not only means miscellaneous but sounds like Sunday. I think it’s wide open for things that I could photograph (including right here in my home). I’m seeking ideas, suggestions, even challenges. You can tell me in comments to this or any other post, any time, and I’ll start a list. I always see all the comments. Or email me. Or text me. Or call me. Or tell me when you see me in person.
Give me nouns, and I’ll start a list of your suggestions for future photo opportunities. Can’t think of anything? All you have to do is look in your own space. What do you see? A bird? A phone? A fan? A shoe? Or you might think about things people collect, e.g. books (book covers? specific kinds of book covers? some of my favorite mysteries?), teacups, something old something new something borrowed something blue–who knows? You don’t have to think about the size–remember, I have a house full of things at smaller-than-lifesize scale.
Help me share Sundays with you in photos and give me a reason to use my camera.
ETA: In honor of Father’s Day… Whatever role you took as a parent, or whoever parented you…
Whatever path got you to the ones who needed you, or who were there when you needed them…
I celebrate you and your shared bond. Since my theme today is “shells,” it occurred to me to share a photo of this box.
After my father retired from the many places his desire to work had taken him, he volunteered his time with the elderly. At one of the places where he volunteered, a lady made this embellished cigar box for him as one of her crafts. My mother kept it after he died, and when Mother died, for a time, Lynne kept it in her guest bathroom, which had an ocean theme. When she moved or redecorated, she returned it to me. It’s next to those shells I featured in the other photo, many of which came from Lynne’s sister. The bowl those shells are in was a Christmas gift to Tom’s mother on the Christmas Eve she went into labor with him. Lots of family on that shelf.
You almost made it to twenty years of Buttons on Sundays! That’s almost 1040 buttons.
That’s a lot of freakin’ buttons. (Some posts had multiple buttons, too, as I recall.)
Open your box of Crayola crayons and pick a colour at random (without replacement so you can’t repeat it). Discuss the color!
It will happen!
That’s a lovely cigar box.
I collected bookmarks when I was a kid and after I moved, took them all out of the album – partly to save space and partly so that I could use them. I know you don’t need bookmarks nowadays, but do you have any lying around the house.
Stay tuned!
I thought I needed a bookmark for my re- x n read of The More than Complete Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy I did on random weekends for the past year or so in noisy places like cafes and restaurants. Just by size alone, I was impressed by how close I got to where I left off the last time. Not always, but I didn’t mind as long as I was re-reading a section I enjoyed a few weeks prior.
Once on a Sunday though, a guy with his parents jumped over to my table while I was reading that Hitch Hiker’s book, and he asked if there was anything he could pray for. Maybe it was the thickness of the book I was trying to read in all that chaos? The book laid flat on the table without the give-away paper cover sleeve, so the title wasn’t obvious to anyone, but it is a rather thick hard back copy. I just waived him a no.
Bookmarks though, use I could have.
My copy of that book (which is actually Tom’s copy of that book) has gold gilded pages, as do many Bibles. Maybe Hoppy thought you were reading a Bible.
In the days when I went to food or beverage establishments with a book, I never understood why people–sorry, I’ll just say it right out, MEN, because they were always men–thought nothing of interrupting me to ask what I was reading. I found that rude.
I know of a past coworker who knew someone who arm-carried a leather wrapped copy of Hitch Hiker’s like a thumper on a sacred text mission. When Hoppy hopped over hoping, I was reminded, and for a brief moment, I wished I had that Boy Toy ultra-cheeze murder mystery with a shirtless athletic guy on the cover to waive around. The plot of that story could easily fit inside a Murder she Wrote, but ooohhhh the lllooonnnngggiiiinnnggg stares I would get by this closeted guy with his gf a table or two away. I think Hoppy would have choked, turned stop sign red and explode into a lecture of being, only to be sharply reminded of all nature has to offer. Fortunately, Hoppy hopped elsewhere.
Aaaannnnnnnnnnnd what are yyooooouuuuuuuuuuu reading, hmmmmmmm?
Oh just some endlessly fascinating Differential Equations I’m thinking of referencing in my pHd. How ‘about you? Uhh… umm… yeah. Next Table!
I know we already did the 30 days of music (daily but fun anyway earworms) and creativity. Maybe some can extend into here, Catnip, or maybe the challenge and the prompts defined those events.