On Cabbage

I'm moving on the weekend. (Into Repton's and HouseMonkey's house, for them that know where that is, and people that don't can leave a comment here if they'd like my new address.)

In the process I'm trying to do a sort out of all the gear I've accumulated and, out of both tidiness and necessity, getting rid of the things I don't need. Last night was working through my fabric bin taking out the pieces that are too small to work with, or uninteresting and unlikely to strike my fancy for, I dunno, doll-making or whatever. A friend of mine once referred to these kinds of scraps as 'cabbage,' and since that makes me think of the raggedy strips of sliced up cabbage prior to making coleslaw, I think that's a good term. Right now, my whole house is full of cabbage - left over bits and pieces that get left behind after the essential stuff has been packed, like the natural decomposition process of kipple. It's a bit disconcerting, although the cat is treating the whole affair as An Adventure. I'm not sure how she'll feel when the move hits and she's confined to a room to adjust in. Oh well.

But back to the cabbage. My current plan is to load the bag of scraps into one of those clothing bins that cuts old clothes up for rags. If anyone thinks they might use it, instead, like for patchworking, let me know and it's yours.