Jo and I were at my parents yesterday evening, to enjoy a dinner prepared by my brother and his wife. While I was there, I took pictures of the oriental rugs, with particular attention in this one, which was in front of the fireplace when I was a wee tyke in Portland, and which provided what I considered a highly satisfactory play area.
A recent alt.support.autism discussion of buttons reminded me of the old family button box that my great grandfather made in 1921.
Note the reversable lid. I'm sorry that the contents, which I remember as being wonderful, are no longer worthy of a photograph. It seems that a large percentage of the buttons have wandered off, but perhaps it is my memory that is at fault.