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.
There is no room for timidity at the loom. It takes courage to dismantle a loom that has a tapestryon it. Dismantling and reassembling a loom doesn’t scare me. But taking a loom apart in the middle of a cherished project? That’s another question altogether. The hardest part was the waiting in between. You can imagine my mix of emotions through the tapestry transition—up, down, and every which way! And then, the moment of truth…Finally…When the warp is evenly tensioned, and the butterflywefts make their first pass through. The lizard has been awakened. Hallelujah!
This slideshow video takes you through the steps of taking the loom down…And putting it up again.
Weaving continues now as if there had been no interruption.
I started the Lizard tapestry right before our big disruption. Selling your house means that every in-process project instantly becomes vulnerable. Yikes! After a sleepless night, I contacted my friend Joanne Hall. Can this weaving be saved? Yes!, she assured me, as she gave me instructions for dismantling the loom.
Everything is logical about the process. Undo things, tie parts together, take things apart. And I don’t have to cut off the weaving? No. Remove the beam cords from the cloth beam. It’s that simple.
Now all I have to do is wait…
All the dust has settled, the house transaction is done, and the loom has been re-located and put back together. It’s the first thing you see when you enter our ground-floor apartment.
What about the Lizard? Can I resume where I left off? Good news: IT WORKED!
When have you had to wait? Something you dearly long for is unreachable for a while. Waiting for the Lord is always waiting with hope. I trusted my friend’s advice. So, my hope was strong while I waited to see this lizard take shape again. In a similar way, I can trust the Lord when there is a disruption. Wait with strong hope. Wait for the grace to begin again.
July was a roller coaster that took off before I had a chance to buckle my seatbelt! As you may recall, I had just disassembled my Glimåkra Standard loom at the end of June. Happily, that loom is now set up in our Texas hill country home, with a few heddles already threaded. Next, we sold our Houston house. I had prayed that the house would sell quickly. But I was as surprised as anyone when the house sold in one day! Now, a few short weeks later, the house stands empty, ready for a new family to call it home. And, Steve and I are enjoying apartment life in this transition season.
The Ideal loom with the Lizardtapestry had to be dismantled for moving… (more on that in future posts).
Pray. Abiding prayer is that ongoing conversation we have with God as we face the roller coasters that show up at our doorstep. He invites us to bring everything—big and little. Selling the house quickly is a little thing. Saving people is a big thing. Maybe sometimes God answers the little things to remind us that He is here for the big things, too.
As June comes to a close, it’s time to sign off for a short while. Meet me right back here the first Friday of August! And head on over to Instagram ( @celloweaver ) to keep up to date with all my daily happenings on and off the loom!
Some things are on hold right now. My “weaving studio” suddenly looks like the spare bedroom it used to be. The big loom is dismantled! Fortunately, it is not a problem for this smart Glimåkra Standard loom to hold onto the warp that I’ve already wound onto the warp beam. The good news is that this cherished loom is being relocated to our Texas hill country home, where it will take the stage as if it were a grand piano.
Hold. Several meanings for this word come to mind. Sometimes our familiar patterns of daily life are on hold. There’s a pause, a held breath. But during that pause, our plans and threads of normal practices are securely and lovingly wrapped up on a strong beam of hope. Wrap the spare cloth securely over your precious warp ends so that when it’s time, you can unroll the warp and finish dressing the loom for spectacular twelve-shaftdouble weave towels. Hold fast to Christ as Christ holds all your interrupted threads of being.
PS The Lizard tapestry is in full swing on the not-dismantled Glimåkra Ideal.