It’s a temptation to hurry up when I am this close to the end of the warp. There is only one more placemat to weave, plus a little extra warp after that. I remind myself that there is no reason to rush. A steady pace helps me avoid careless errors that I’m prone to when I’m in a hurry. I’ll have all twelve placemats soon enough.
The Lord shows us how to live. He directs us in a way that sets a steady pace for life. No need to hurry. Enjoy each moment as a gift from his hand.
Gray Fox is showing his stride. That bushy tail is impressive. On the drawloom I get to determine exactly where that tail will swish. Where the tail crosses into the side border, I switch from pulling one pattern shaftdraw handle to pulling individual single unitdraw cords. That’s where the complexity of the combination drawloom really shines. It gives me extraordinary flexibility for weaving the designs I have in mind.
In some ways I think of the drawloom as a tool of simplicity. Despite the countless cords and shafts, every piece has a simple purpose. Each single unit draw cord, for example, simply lifts a single unit of 6 threads. That’s all it does. Complexity is a matter of perspective.
May you enjoy the simple things you find in complexity.
My husband and I coined the word “lapkin” when our children were young. Lap + napkin = lapkin. We wanted our children to learn the courtesy of placing a napkin on their lap when they were seated for a meal. “Lapkin check!” was a fun game we made of it. The armadillo on the drawloom is a lapkin, if I ever saw one. This thirsty cloth will soak up any drips and spills, smeary hands, or messy mouths that come in contact with it.
Armadillo is the first of a dozen critters that will parade across this loom. Armadillo napkin is the only one of its kind. I’m certain of that. (Fox is up next.)
Lapkins give us a discreet way to stay tidy at the table. Armadillo, however, doesn’t intend to stay discreet. I’m pretty certain of that, too.