A Day in the Life of Looms

January 1, 2011

Oh, what the hey . . .

Table loom:  Modified, tweaked, tweaked some more, and finally at the end of its cottolin towel warp, with a Christmas kumihimo kit lying where I left it after unwrapping it.

Bergman countermarche and Spears rigid heddle:  Naked.  Folded and cupboarded, respectively.

2010 was a hard year on my body and spirit.  For much of it a gardening injury (yes, gardening injury) held sway.  Weaving was minimal, blogging was beside the point, and yet, oddly enough, the glacially slow towel warp was my life-line last month.  Like a Sisyphus making friends with his boulder, once I had tricked my third-hand home-made table loom into weaving linen, I found myself becoming attached to the plaguey thing.  Who else would have gone to so much trouble over a simple dead weight?  If I sell my boulder now, I will be putting a low price on my ingenuity.  No one else will know its former foibles.  No one else will know what they’ve got.  And it stood by me when I needed it: all 100 pounds of 8-shaft Awkward.

As for me on January 1, 2011, I’m more like my inkle loom, poised and empty between sample warp and project.  After a prolonged, helpless presence at my grandmother’s hospital deathbed (I’m her only living descendent), and the visiting and worry of her final illness before that, for the past week I’ve fond myself back at home, waiting and sorting and taking care of business in a sort of vacuum before the funeral.

My inkle sample was successful and informative.  The project is for a friend.  I’ll get to it, am in fact looking forward to it, but right now all I really want to do is this:

. . . and may not do much more than that for a while after the service.  It’s funny the way our cat has started tucking himself up in the rocking chair over the last few days.  Usually even his head’s curled in, so all I see is an alarming featureless lump–like an oblong fur cushion.  The sheepskin on the back of the chair is a New Zealand Merino I’ve had for years, but the one on the seat is an IKEA cheapie the cat used to loathe.  When it was new he would get into fights with it, attacking the edges, tearing it off the chair as fast as I put it back on.  At last he managed to rip off a good-sized chunk from the corner in a final conquering frenzy.  After that he ignored it, and the chair too.  Now it’s Mother Cat.  He kneads it for a half-hour at a time before going to sleep.


12 Responses to “A Day in the Life of Looms”

  1. Dear Trapunto! I’m so sorry to hear of your grandmother’s passing. I have enjoyed the mentions of her in some of your posts, and know by those how much love you have for her, and how much she influenced your life. Thank You for sharing her with us. I’m so sad for your loss, and my thoughts are with you.

  2. Oh, it’s so good to see you back, albeit easing in slowly. I am sorry last year hasn’t been a great one, but perhaps this year will can start with some slow, gentle grieving? I hope so.

  3. Cally Says:

    I’m so sorry to hear about your grandmother. The hospital deathbed is a hard place to keep vigil. And now to have all the responsibility for sorting out her affairs – that is quite a load. I think a few minutes on the fleecy chair are well-deserved, if you can find room.

    On the weaving front, I’ll be interested to see what happens when you open up that Kumihimo kit…

  4. deborahbee Says:

    How lovely to hear from you again. I know that you have not felt brilliant and I often wondered about you and your weaving. I gave up blogging last year but am thinking about resuming. Your presence encourages me . I have just bought a Louet spring loom and have fallen in love with linen too!!! See you soon .

  5. Marion Says:

    THE weaving on your table loom looks great! Those colours are super.. Happy new year..

  6. I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother.

  7. fibresofbeing Says:

    I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother and the challenges you have been facing. Best wishes for 2011, and a chance to rest, rebalance and refresh.

  8. Trapunto, I am so glad to see you back in the blogging world. I am very sorry for your loss of your precious Grandmother.
    The towel warp looks lovely, I can’t wait to see a picture of the finished towel.

  9. You are a forceful presence!!! I have just spent all day fighting with uploads and edits to get a post on line.
    I am so sorry that you have lost your grandmother. I am very aware that my 93 year old mother who still seems full of life is becoming very frail.
    I love the weaving. You are so right about the ideosyncrasies of old looms….I am determined to keep weaving on the Bergman despite little Miss smoothy in the corner

  10. Dot Says:

    I hope your Grandmother’s funeral goes well, it is so sad to have to say goodbye.

    Best wishes for the New Year.

  11. Louisa Says:

    So happy to see you back in Blogland, trapunto! And so sorry to hear of your grandmother’s passing. I hope you will find some peace once the funeral is over and things are sorted out. There is a certain relief along with the sadness. Big Hugs!

  12. trapunto Says:

    Thank you, everyone, for your thoughts and encouragement!

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