Do you remember waaaaaay back when, when I was chugging along on a larger-than-normal knitting project? I had finally finished it and then it languished. For months - nay - years. My excuse was that I had to find just the right buttons. I did. This past late summer, Kay's daughter and husband started parting with her giant, bottomless stash in a series of (painful for all) tailgate sales. I spied these buttons and remembered when she got them. She had come bustling over - chaos in motion, at least one knitting bag, probably two or three (she had at least six projects in the works at all times), purse, keys, exuberance - and showed me these buttons. They were thin slices of walnut shells. She never got the chance to use them on the perfect project, but I have. And it's not like I need these buttons to remind me of her - I still think of her every single day - but it's awful nice to look down and see them and know that she would approve.