to scrap or not to scrap

i have an enourmous pile of fabric that i have kept, just in case i needed that square, just in case that would look good in a quilt. the reasons go on and on and i have carted this ever growing collection of fabric with me where ever i have moved over the past 8 yaers. today i sorted through it, today i decided to make something of these scraps.

at first i questioned myself, should i just bin them??? what a question to ask, my friend Sari would have surely slapped me and lovingly conviscated and re ironed the scrunched up pieces of vibrant fabrics, trimmed and stored them away in her own pile. But as it turned out, i too could not part with these scraps. some of them patchwork squares which i had hand sewed intricatly when J.J was a bouncing baby and i didnt even own a sewing machine... leftover squares from baby quilts which had been re designed half way through creation and cut outs which also went into the re-design colour scheme pile...

so i ironed them all, lovingly while chatting to my best friend over a cup of tea whilst she searched the latest bargains on ebay late into the afternoon. i sewed them into mish mashed concoctions, a bit of green here, blue there, red, yellow,, purple ... the scraps were coming to life in the form of an abstract piece of fabric that looked fantastic, i eyed off my dressmakers doll and wrapped the large loud piece of patchworked fabric i had created from scrap around the bust, it reached the hip line area, and i was inspired...

so i got out my pattern for dress and started cutting, suddenly the depths of hell stirred and in ran my 2 sons, screaming, jeering and laughing. they ran over my beautiful piece of bright passion filled fabric with dirty feet, ripped my fragile paper pattern and dismissed themselves as quickly as they had barged in. i swore in italian and fixed my pattern and continued on my journey of the great dress. applying my pattern again, and i cut some more, through those glorious colours to make the Ultimate of beautiful dresses...
Those nasty children ran thru and landed square on the fabric again... this time with mud on their feet.

"Why !" i ask myself  "must they come to this art of the house and land smack bang on my fabric, why have they destroyed my hard work why why why???????????????????????????????"
i damp clothed the fabric, wiping gently with genuine care... then i realised i had cut my pattern back to front the second time and totally stuffed my small but well loved piece of fabric, no amount of cotton and thread could repair those cuts and i finally followed my first thoughts and Binned the scraps of fabric...

i have more though, 2nd time's the charm, right?