Remember potholder looms? I made many such potholders when I was young. It is a natural entry point for a budding weaver. My eight-year-old grandson has mastered potholders. He is ready for a bigger challenge. I ask, “Would you like to try weaving on a floor loom?” Wide-eyed, he says, “Yes!”
Sit here. Practice moving your feet on the treadles: Right foot 1-2-3-4; 1-2-3-4; left foot 5-6-7-8; 5-6-7-8. (Can you do it without looking at your feet?) Hold the shuttle in your right hand, and send it across the top of the warp over to your left hand. Practice gliding the shuttle back and forth on top of the warp several times to get the hang of it. Okay, I think you’re ready! Let’s do it!
Within a few minutes he is weaving unassisted. Ahh, the joy of seeing someone take pleasure in making cloth—especially, when that someone is your grandchild!
And now, the potholder loom grabs the attention of another grandchild. “Let me do it myself,” she says, like a typical five-year-old. The cycle repeats itself, and Lola (that’s me) smiles.
Two of my looms are getting the lion’s share of my attention right now. That doesn’t keep me from sneaking out to the drawloom, though, for an hour here, an hour there. Those hours add up. I have everything threaded and sleyed. The reed is in the beater now, and I’m tying on the warp.
148 single unitlift heddles and 45 pattern shafts are waiting in the wings. I’m setting up the combination drawloom again for maximum flexibility in designing. That also means I’ll have abundant possibilities for weaving. Oh, what exuberant escapades await! This anticipation keeps me skipping down the path of preparation, ever so steadily, as I dream of entering that magical world of drawloom weaving once again.
There is a door into an invisible kingdom. You may have seen it as a child. The door to God’s invisible kingdom is open. With childlike trust we give our heart to Jesus and his kingdom comes alive. In the here and now, as our preparation continues, we are ever mindful of the abundant existence of the ever after. What exuberance awaits!
Before everyone arrives for our Thanksgiving family gathering, I am making pie crust for the pecan pie, dough for my “famous” cranberry bread, and doing the prep to make Gram’s turkey dressing. Each family is bringing their contributions to the meal (feast). Thanksgiving Day is a flurry of activity with too many cooks in the kitchen—just how we like it! And sitting at the table with the feast before us, we give thanks. Thanks to each other, and to our Creator. We are blessed!
And before everyone arrives I also manage to sley the reed on the Standard. A different kind of dressing—loom dressing.
A feast for the eyes and hands and heart. Thankful indeed!
This week, though, I have more important things to do, like playing outside and having pillow pallet parties with grandsons. Do you know how demanding full time motherhood is? I’ve done it, but that was eons ago. Diaper changes, giggles and tears, and squabbling. And forgetting.
But I did get my big Glimåkra Freja tapestry frame warped…And a header woven…And I wove the first few picks of the tapestry. That’s what nap times are good for.
Little children quickly forget the offense that started a squabble. After nap time, they’re off, giggling together again. Forgiveness forgets. Have you ever had a squabble with God? We’ve all been there. When God forgave us he smudged out the long list of all our offenses. And then he nailed it to the cross of Christ, our squabbles forever forgotten. And in the resulting quiet that’s like a restful nap time, our Lord weaves his image in us.
Talk about thick and thirsty towels! Double weave makes these hand towels thick. And the linen in the cottolin threads makes them highly absorbent. The colors are fantastic together. When our daughter Melody moves with her little family to Chile, she can set up her new home with these made-for-her towels. My love is woven into every single pick.
I have included two short little videos just for the fun of it. Enjoy!
This project started in my weaving studio in our Houston home, where I beamed the warp.
And then we decided to move! We sold the house and moved into an apartment. The big loom was dismantled, with the towel warp on the back beam. Then, we moved all the pieces to our Texas hill country home.