I've read much here about what to do with scraps. I've considered many of your ideas and even set out plans to implement many of them - sadly I've never followed through and the scraps just kept multiplying.
My anti-depressant of choice has always be to spend time "rubbing cotton", occasionally bolstered by a period of time on Prozac. At a particularly low point, I was completely overwhelmed by the garbage bags of scraps stored in what was once a linen closet. I had no idea what was in the bags and I couldn't take it any longer.
I called a friend and set a time for lunch and a movie (my treat). I then called my son and asked him to come over and bring his truck. When he arrived I told him a friend was coming to pick me up. He was instructed to wait until we left, then to go into the linen closet and take out all the white garbage bags and carry them to the Goodwill and deposit them in the donation dumpster. He was to never speak of this in my presence, for fear of triggering a complete meltdown over what I had done.
This was quite a while ago and, yes, I felt twinges every time I opened the linen closet to store a bag of scraps, but the twinges have subsided over time as the door gets harder and harder to close.
I have hesitated sharing this for fear of ridicule from you ladies, whom I respect so much. However, I feel the need to seek so validation for my actions. Upon reflection, I've taken comfort in the possibility that my scraps may have found a loving home in someone else's closet or perhaps even in a quilt or wall hanging. This is a far better fate than ending up in the city dump, isn't it?
What are your thoughts and is there forgiveness in my future?
I'm beginning to ramble, perhaps it's time to go rub some cotton.