The Little World

Some people like lima beans. Some like spinach. Some cannot stand either vegetable*.

If they are in a restaurant it’s easy – they don’t order either. If they are eating at the family table or someone else’s house the problem becomes more difficult. They may have a heaping helping steaming there on the plate and no way to avoid eating it.

If their friends do not know their medical history they can plead allergy and get out of the situation with grace. If their family cook insists they will finish the plate – even if they have to sit there all night – there is no grace at all.

What do you do when you start a kit but find that it has no appeal whatsoever? When your will to finish it entirely evaporates? Several choices:

a. Put it on the whimsically-named ” shelf of doom “. Just ignore it and go start another kit.

b. Do the shelving business, but pick it up later in the week after you have cooled down. Carry on.

c. Throw it in the bin and close the lid.

d. Sell it at a stash sale or swap meet. If it is started, the price you’ll get is lower than a pristine kit. Don’t flatter yourself that your contribution will raise the value. Unless you are Mozart, no-one wants to buy your half-finished Bf-109.

e. Buy another of the same kit by mistake and do the same thing over again when you forget the first experience. Use the old kit for spares.

None of these behaviours is a sin, but they’re no great honour either. If you’re a rich man, start fiddling.

* I like ’em both.