As much as I am enthralled with what I am doing at the loom, my concentration ability wanes. It is in those waning moments that errors happen. Also, as you know, I have looms in my home, which means I can weave well into the evening in my pajamas, if I want to. But, I better not exceed my limits, or else…
Weaving on the drawloom demands my undivided attention, as does pictorial tapestry and any intricate pattern weave. All of these are especially tedious to undo. Therefore, mistakes are outlawed! To that end, I have two secret weapons that prevent all most mistakes—
Twenty-Five Minutes On – Five Minutes Off
25 Minutes. Go full strength. Be completely absorbed in the task. 5 Minutes. Take a break. Stand up, walk around, stretch. (I use an app on my phone, Focus Time Activity Tracker, but any timer will do.)
The Cinderella Hour
Know When to Stop
If I am weaving at the end of the day (in my pajamas, or not), I stop when the clock chimes 8 times. I call it my Cinderella hour. My loom turns into a pumpkin after 8:00 pm. If I keep weaving, I can expect to be fixing errors the next day.
The skirt in my mind is picture perfect in style and fit. If I could snap my fingers and make the skirt appear, I would. Instead, I find my way to a workable sewing pattern by trial and error—agonizing over every small step. The sewing part doesn’t scare me. But I’m in over my head in the garment design arena.
A not-as-simple layered tiered skirt replaces my original idea of a simple three-tiered skirt. The new design has a fitted yoke at the top of the skirt (and a zipper) instead of a super-simple elastic gathered waist. All this, so the distinctive borders of each tier will flutter freely, and not be trapped in seams. The trouble is worth it. I can see the finished skirt in my mind’s eye. It is phenomenal! The fabric is handwoven, made for a purpose. This is a skirt worth waiting for.
You were skillfully made for a purpose. Through many trials and errors, lessons in success and failure, we discover why we are here. God created you for this very time. Trust him to guide you, especially through agonizing moments. By his grace, he forms us into the phenomenal masterpiece that he has always had in mind.
I first noticed that something was amiss right after advancing the warp. Something brushed my knees when I sat down. Aha!Beam cords, attached to the tie-on bar. I see that the tie-on bar is going straight from the cloth beam to the breast beam. I had forgotten to bring the tie-on bar over the knee beam. Really? Nearly everyone does this at least once when they are starting out. But it has been a few years since I made this mistake. Apparently, I still need my checklist.
Fortunately, forgetting the knee beam is one of the easiest blunders to remedy.
Re-Set the Knee Beam
1. Remove the knee beam. Rest the beam on the loom frame.
2. Unlatch the front ratchet to release warp tension.
3. Pull the knee beam all the way out. Put it back across, underneath the beam cords. Rest the beam on the loom frame.
4. Reseat the knee beam gently, positioning the beam cords along with the beam.
5. Tension the warp. Resume weaving.
May your trouble be inconsequential and short lived.
In order to adjust the height of the suspended heddling bar at the drawloom, I want to move the arrow peg. I hold one end of the bar while pulling the peg out of the Texsolv cord. That little peg fumbles out of my hand and drops to the floor. OOPS! I am left holding one end of the bar that has 148 threadedpattern heddles, weights included. Now what?! Alone in the room, I am now the sole support for that end of the heavy bar. The peg on the floor is out of reach.
Super Simple Tip of the Day
Always keep a spare anchor pin or arrow peg on the loose end of the Texsolv cord. Always.
The rest of the story… When that pesky little arrow peg slips out of my hand I calmly take the spare peg that is there “just in case,” and secure the Texsolv loop that holds the heddling bar. No big deal, after all.
When you want a better photograph you snap another picture. When you want a better tapestry you take out what you’ve woven and weave it another way. I recently showed you my progress on the tapestry of my mother. (See Tapestry of the Heart.) As I viewed the tapestry in photographs I could see that the 6/1 tow linen that weaves between the rows of wool was too bright. The golden bleached linen is lovely on its own, and melts into the background on the sides of the portrait. But this bright linen draws undo attention to itself within the darker portions of the tapestry because of the stark contrast. The day after that post I undid everything back to the starting line.
Undoing a few weeks of tapestry weaving is not physically hard to do, but making the decision to undo it is hard, indeed. Since then, I have been weaving every day to get back to the point where I stopped everything. This time, I am using a different color tow linen that will make all the difference.
Now, instead of golden bleached, the linen thread is a golden beige that disappears into the fabric, while holding everything together. Come to think of it, that is an apt picture of a mother’s influence.