I am not a pack rat. In fact, in recent years, I have become absolutely ruthless about disposing of the things I no longer want or need and carefully organizing the things I do. Most of them. Occasionally, however, there are objects that are placed in the "undecided" pile. That dark dustball-infested corner of the basement closet that serves as a "temporary" home for said objects while I make up my mind. And there, for the past several years, have resided . . . the science fair projects.
Both my children were required to produce science fair projects at some point during their junior high school years. And when such a project was exceptionally well-done or award-winning, it earned a special place in our hearts. They, and I, wanted to keep it, to treasure it, to preserve the memory of science fair excellence. But the projects were a little on the large side. They couldn't fit easily into a photo album or a scrapbook or a memory box. Yet I couldn't bear to part with them. So they found their way to the "undecided" pile. While I made up my mind.
But now, years later, I no longer regard the science fair projects with such unbridled affection. I now consider them junk. Cold and insensitive? Perhaps. But we have photographs and certificates to keep the memories alive. And if I had saved everything my children have produced throughout their school years, I would be buried alive under a mountain of mediocre spelling tests and crayon portraits of cats and aliens.
So where do old science fair projects go to die? To the city dump? To a recycling depot? Of course not. They are transformed. Reborn. They rise from the ashes of their former selves to find new life as one of this year's Halloween props.
I just don't know which one yet.