Once a fortnight, I gather the household's small breakages into a basket and spend an afternoon mending them. A button reattached, a hem re-sewn, a wooden toy glued back together. The tasks are modest; the satisfaction is not.

Mending is unfashionable advice. It carries connotations of austerity and making-do that our consumer culture has trained us to reject. But I have come to see it differently: mending is a statement about the kind of relationship one wishes to have with one's possessions.

The Mending Basket

Keep a basket or box where damaged items collect between sessions. A button that pops off goes straight in; a sock with a small hole; a book whose spine is loosening. When the basket is full, or the fortnight arrives, sit down with good light and simple tools.

What Mending Teaches

Patience, primarily. And attention — you must look closely at how a thing is made in order to repair it. These are qualities that transfer easily to other areas of life. The person who can mend a seam can also mend a schedule, a relationship, a day that has gone wrong.