Skill
Ok! I’m impressed! Put in a room … I could not do this! Weaving. Wow! I love the pattern. Colleen designed and wove this herself in a few day’s time. a friend is newly diagnosed with illness. It is a “comfort shawl.” Nice! Alas, we once again have no product to show for all of our efforts.
Stash
The term “stash’ refers to the accumulation of yarn and fiber a spinner, weaver, or knitter accrues in anticipation of a project as yet undetermined. You might get where this thought process is going. It is like a proverbial savings account… the bigger the better.
I idly spoke with Colleen… guilty! We have fiber related things in every room of the house including but not limited to – the bedroom (looms); the bathroom (spinning wheel); basement ( fiber, loom, etc); elevator (yes, an elevator, full of fiber); studio (looms, fiber); office (spinning wheels, fiber); living room (assorted everything); dining room (spinning wheels); kitchen … do I need to go on?
Oh gee! It all snuck up upon us with our realizing we are pretty much overrun by fiber related things. I did not label the rooms for you. Suffice to say we have an embarrassment of materials and equipment. It’s not my fault. I am simply the “getaway driver.” Yeah yeah, no one would believe that I do not aid and abet Colleen’s obsession. Ummm… did I mention (did you notice) the bathroom? The foyer?
There was the old saying: “He who has the most toys when he dies, wins.”
Origin
Zen. I could go on for a long time. I won’t because I favor brevity.
The “…” you put on this morning…. Take wool. It starts as a sheep. The sheep is sheared which becomes fleece, which is washed, which is carded, which is spun, then dyed, then woven…. Socks!?
It’s a “zen” thing to spin. Repetitive, sameness, it gives you plenty of time to ponder. Wonderful! I am not patient! I am type A personality – go, go, go. No sitting and pondering please! Sorry, it’s just my nature.
I seek the “zen” of spinning, that rhythm, the rhythmic movement, repetitive moment, the constant peace one achieves as the yarn spins out ….endlessly between my fingers.
You may skip to the end and just don the socks to your feet. Or, you may shear the sheep and process the fleece through the many multi step process – fleece, to roving, to yarn, plying, and then weaving.
I am party to the process, partially, and wholly in the presence because Colleen has taken this as an avocation in her retirement.
I spin. I seek the “zen” of spinning, the conversion of a “mess” into a spun yarn which is then woven into “product.” Product? None to illustrate, we use it or Colleen gifts it. Ha ha.
As I have said in a few words… it is a process. Mastery? … a lifetime. Ommmm….
Work in progress
We just got done with kitchen renovation. A myriad of packing boxes empty and full are strewn about getting sorted into donation or putting away. It’s a mess in another picture…
Meanwhile Colleen is on a roll. So, move the weaving accoutrements from here to there hither and yon. Oh boy! I am making another mess or cleaning up one that is long overdue. The barn loom went downstairs – storage. Rugs were coming and going. The bookcase and Hossier cabinet came up for additional storage. Two looms migrated into the space. And… etc. etc. and so forth. Neater?
Of course it is! Did anything get thrown out? Don’t ask!?! Neater! More organized! Easier access and easier on the eye. Less messy?!?! I gotta admit. The girl can organize. Oh! My aching back! You may laugh, this was pictures of a kitchen renovation. Right?! …. all that moving about and not a thing got thrown out.
Now
Nowadays. Life is still disorganized. Sure, why would it be different? Come as you are. Discover adventure as you go. We don’t work with a plan. I take pictures. Random discoveries, scenes, locations, cats, weaving, and selfies dot my work. You never know what reflection will present itself or what sunset will come next. Though life can be unpredictable, it has and is certainly a lot of fun.
Women are smart
I was infatuated by Kristina. She was niece to a famous neurosurgeon. Cool. We had a brief travel encounter heading toward Oslo. I never saw her again. It was her decision. Better for me (much!!). Strange girl. I had back pain. She opened her handbag and took out a bottle of mixed assorted pills, found a couple and handed them to me. ??? Oh, she said, I know what they are by their looks. I took ‘em. Trust! It’s wise she did not hook up with me. After all, history says that if you wait, you will meet Colleen once more. Oh! Thank you! I laugh, though. We stopped along the way to Oslo, spontaneously knocking on a random door to a mansion, and getting a tour from the mistress of the house. That is definitely not my usual, or, maybe… You may smile (or not) to see the weaving, which Colleen can undoubtedly comment. Warp, weft, pattern, they are all discernible to the eye of a weaver. Me? I am very happy in the place I am in, right here, and, now. I am with a very smart woman, indeed!
Exuberant
Colleen is tired of me for apologizing for our cozy home. We are definitely not minimalist. Our tendency toward exuberance is everywhere in the beer steins we collect to the refrigerator magnets. We have eight cats. I will add the Willow’s picture is a reminder of wide angle distortion, once more! I took old bobbins and made them into pens, not once but, as you see, many times over. Baskets? Ditto. One detail I will note: Colleen can weave! This cloth is being woven on a barn loom that dates back to the Revolutionary war. Wow! She can weave!! I like living large!
Details
Home is a catalog of your life. In this case we had separate lives and have a joint life. It’s quite a mish mash of stuff. In making up for lost decades we have collected a lot in a hurry – old typewriters, old sewing machines, old spinning wheels… old beer steins. Colleen weaves. That shuttle is sitting on a Revolutionary war era barn loom. Yes, we basket. And, I built/constructed the bobbin display rack to hold spun skeins. We got old art and new art. The old wheel is our TP holder in the half bath. The master bath has too many cosmetics. I hid them in a nearby backpack. Yes, it’s all jokes in self-defense – we are out of room for stuff. Ditto, my pantry sits partially on the counter. We did not start out this way. They have shows about hoarders.
Us? We? Nah!!
Picker
Picker? It’s something I was told we needed. Ok. Ok? Huh? It’s something I won at auction later (that day) some years back. It went for hundreds of $. Yeah, me, I paid hundreds!?? Don’t ask. Look! It is so simple, simply made from nails. Sharp nails. Super sharp! Yes, stay away; those nails can DO serious damage. The device swings like a pendulum pulling the fiber apart. My imagination runs, and, I laugh. Women, I would guess, are mostly at risk? Picker? It is part of the process of going sheep to fleece to roving to yarn. Yeah, easy.
Redeemed
Finished!! Finally! It’s a sheepskin rug woven from the locks of the sheep. It’s been a labor of love. It has been on the loom forever – at least a couple years. Lately, Nutley lounges across the near finished rug. It was his spot… until now. Now that the rug is off the loom, what’s Nutley to do? Lost, he’s simply lost. Colleen rigged an interim solution. Peace reigns. Few enough people understand wool, fiber, and felting. No, my cats lounging on the drying fiber did not felt it. Pfewf!
Weaver cat
It has been more than a year since we experienced the ravages of Covid. Can we remember? Do we? Toilet paper was in short supply. I did a little dance in the grocery aisle when TP was in stock again. We chased appointments in order to get a vaccine.
So much has happened. It’s hard to remember that so recently – it seems so long ago, now – Patch died. Colleen completed a memorial scarf/shawl with his colors – green eyes.
Patch would sit on and among Colleen’s looms. (Yes, that is plural – looms!) As a weaver cat, Patch was taught not to play with the warp and weft – threads. He was large enough to disrupt the weaving process until he was ready to move. We miss him.
Not my first time
We volunteered – rather I was Shanghaied – to help take apart and reassemble a computerized loom. Be careful what you agree to do. Be very careful!! There are a lot of moving parts. A lot! I took along blue tape and we numbered each section with matching numbers as they came apart. (The tape faced the same way and the numbers matched. Brilliant!) To be sure, the reassembly was hell. But my numbers matched despite disagreement on how it should be. READ: The numbered blue tape is immutably located! I prevailed and the job was done in mere hours. It did not rattle and there are only a couple extra bolts lying around. It could’a been worse. Yes, let me say once more, it could’a been worse. A lot! Computerized loom? I don’t know. They cost upwards the price of a small car. Me? I’ll take the car.
Welcome home
The Saga: Colleen has admired the Rick Reeves handmade wheel – whispers, dreams. In a house full of spinning wheels and looms, what would be the impact of one more wheel? Don’t laugh – too hard. The internet revealed a Reeves wheel for sale – the one and only, and on the day I searched, the only one for sale. Package and ship cross country? The cost was nearly one third the price of the wheel. The box was substantial and the packing weight was nearly equal the weight of the wheel. Safe? Yes! As you can see, there was much joy!
Push pull
The Amish are odd because of their habits – no buttons or zippers on their clothes. And they do not use electricity or machine power. The hay baler is not powered, I guess. We all live amonst one another in peace. No pictures please. You know me. There’s never been a rule I didn’t try to break. Sorry. The rule in “Street photography” is that in “public” you are fair game for photography. It doesn’t mean I will photograph if you are in an embarrassing position. But otherwise…. that weaving device was one of the few I did not buy. What is it? Dunno. It would’ve been a good conversation starter.
Killt
That would be past tense of killed. I’m a dead husband after this post. Oh well… we laugh a lot around here. What do you do during a pandemic and you’re home alone? My brother was once a stock day trader from home dealing with the big stock brokers and would laugh to trade shares over the phone wearing just his underwear. Yeah yeah, you get where I’m going. Someone got distracted early one morning and started winding a warp before breakfast. I don’t think there’s any family who follows my blog regularly. They will (all, I hope) miss this. Meanwhile, just about any and everybody else in the world will know.
Que? … that we have and eat healthy fruit – banana, grapefruit, apple …. you’re all peering at the background, right?
Me? Dead ham. I’m dead ham. If I didn’t mention you’d never notice….
Stuffed
… the opposite of minimalist. I wish. Ha! We are close to clutter. But not! Call it cozy. Call it busy. What weaver wouldn’t kill for a studio like this? Barn loom and four modern looms. I have cameras – lots. Looms (five) are bigger and standout in a room. Alas, we have looms in the living room. Don’t forget the great wheel! And we have beer mugs – lots. My Nantucket baskets await. I shall give them away one day. Ha ha.
Consider it home. We (truly) live in it. It’s a happy home. Did you peek into the background? There’s something to catch your eye everywhere. Meaning and memories abound, stories to regale you of adventure and fun, not clutter, but about love. If there were only one beer mug it would just be a representative of the genre, a commemorative. But, each one after is a memory of place and travels. Yes, we’ve been around a bit. …making up for lost time. Yup, stuffed…with love.
Limit
During covid I am down to two chief subjects, my cats and flowers. Boring is good. It means we are safe and sound. I have joined Colleen in obsessing over weather. I have four different weather apps open and one beach cam. And we cook and eat. …repeat. Colleen asked me to photograph her handicraft and mine. We completed these projects among others. Spinning fiber to yarn; weaving yarn to material, scarves; weaving Nantucket baskets. I’m not bragging; the girl’s got talent. Me? I’m better than I was but not as good as I’m gonna be.
Class
Weaving. Colleen wove this in a week. It was a sampler demonstrating double weave. ??? I think. Who knows? I was on my own to explore Amish country. Quaint. It is a clash of modern vs old. Horse and buggy, bicycle without pedals, modern hay baler pulled by horse, clothing without buttons, it’s just so dyssynchronous.
There are many who gawk. (Guilty, me.) The folks are oblivious. They tolerate. There’s no choice. They are out in the public. Or, that would make me rude. Sorry. A camera and me? There’s no way i pass up a photo op. I just do my best to be discrete.
It Works!
Since I know Colleen we have been taking pictures of barn looms. I shoot to see the tie up and set up. Fascinating?! Well, we bought a real one a couple years back. It dates back to the revolutionary war period – old, real old. And then we won another one in a chance pick up from a man who got a pile of wood at a government auction and didn’t know what to do with it. (The name – they kept them in barns, or the construction of the loom was like constructing a barn.) No one knows. After a couple of years, it works. I built the harnesses. And we tied the heddles – hand tied – my surgical skill came in handy. It works! Did I say that? We actually… Colleen is actually weaving with it. Ain’t that grand?
Weave
What to do on a rainy day and with no where you can go? Hey? Have you considered all the gas and money? We’re spending no money at home. And we’re not driving, so, no gas consumption. It’s good, right? Colleen set up her loom. This one was a trade-out. She swapped looms with a woman. Neither (woman) liked theirs (loom, not husband, silly). It’s been a while (months). It just takes time to set up. It would help if we could find the manual. But… at last, product! It’s placemats. Colleen likes table linen. We have a lot of placemats. So, alas, gifts – it seems I never get to keep the gorgeous product around to show off her skills. Someone is gonna be a very pleased recipient.
Clean
The beauty of inviting anyone to dinner is that you have to straighten and clean. Our tables were covered – with projects and stuff. Of course! The aftermath of cleaning: It’s still cluttered. And there is a screen of drying wool locks – we took it away later. I daresay we have a way to go in order to be minimalist. (I don’t think that is ever happening.) Shhh… it’s all hiding – the stuff. Tomorrow we shall begin again – to take out what we work with. And upstairs, behind me, is the office I use. There’s no path thru the room. I have things on the floor while I sort and search. Yes, the great room is full of weaving implements – too numerous to name… and ah! bundles of artificial flowers! What to say: “Home!”
Background
As long as we are talking technique, let me mention background. Most folks forget to look at the clutter in the background. You know, the stuff behind your subject. … like the light pole sticking out of some loved one’s head. Clutter. Distraction. Ha! I often find myself looking at the background to see the clutter that got “snuck” into someone else’s photo. Oh well, no one likes a messy background. It’s distracting and shows that you were not paying attention when you tried to focus on your foreground subject.
No one likes a cluttered messy home. “Minimalist” is “in” these days. Me, us, we seem to have accumulated an assortment of weaving and spinning things that would do any shopkeeper proud. Nice stuff. Displayed. We do work with most of the stuff you can see. (There’s more!!) Since, we are not entertaining in the near future, anything goes. A lot of fiber equipment is out and in use. This is not a display so much as it is a workshop of “in progress” projects. It’s home. And, it feels like it, though I laugh because not even the cats can make a straight line across the room.
… two spinning wheels, two looms, winder, lazy kate, carder, great wheel, fiber, ball winder… we’re not showing off. We – mostly Colleen – have many projects simultaneously in progress. …and, nary a cat in sight. And, I daresay any picture (in this room) unless it’s a closeup will have distracting background to be considered.
Weaver cat
Nutley, so named because, he’s NUTS!, has a habit of getting on the loom while Colleen weaves. His place/choice of “lying down” spots makes it impossible to weave. Cute! You bet. Everything pauses while we/she waits to continue onward.
Weaver kitty
Nutley. He’s aptly named because he is – nuts. Curious… curiosity killed … cute as hell, a bit dim in the brain department. I could go on… and on. Suffice to say, he’s a special kitty…very!
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