the unmaking of things

I just don’t make things.  I also unmake them.

I frogged a hat recently – one of those that you knit the brim as a big cable and then pick up and knit the body.  Couldn’t get it to fit.  I suppose it helps that I develop a mild antipathy to most of my projects as I’m working on them.   (Something along the lines of “stupid ##$$@#@# – I’m going to finish you!”)  I usually get over this once I’m done, but if I dislike something enough to frog it, I don’t mourn long.  (Perhaps I could have salvaged the cable and made it into a headband, but eh, I wasn’t going to wear that either.)

We’re trying to do a bit of clearing out.  So while the kids were out, W and I tossed/donated some toys.  There were trashed hand-me-downs, things that were outgrown, and then the bad gifts.  But times being what they are, I try to be moderately eco, so I have to find things to do with them.   I took apart some of them for the electronic/battery part of the garbage pickup (especially with the stinkin’ noisy-ass mechanical toys that someone related to W gives us all the time).  Those, I terminated with extreme prejudice.

I admit, the insides were really interesting.

So, I guess something to be learned in all things. (Even from awful electronic toys that no sane parent would wish on another.)