I’ve been working on this spaced rep rag rug for a while. I should know what it looks like. So why does unrolling the cloth beam make me feel like a child on Christmas morning awaiting a surprise? It’s because I see only a small portion of the rug at any one time while I am weaving.
Not until I cut it off and see the whole rug unfurled on the floor do I really grasp the story this rug is telling. The surprise is pleasant. Threads and fabric strips, and a weaver’s hands (mine), have turned written plans into a compelling story to beautify our surroundings.
Our Grand Weaver excels at taking simple threads and odd pieces of cloth to create a lasting story. He weaves his plans into our lives to draw us nearer to himself. We see only short segments at a time. From beginning to end, though, our Lord’s skilled and scarred hands demonstrate his love to us. The finished work is more than we imagine.
As a little girl, I was fascinated with the puckered texture of seersucker. Remember pastel summer seersucker outfits? Thanks to Winnie Poulsen and her Linen-Cotton Crinkly Tablecloth (Väv Magasinet, Nr. 3, 2021), I now have a puckered fabric that reminds me of those seersucker days of summer.
This is a challenging project. Double width, two warps, fine sett, nylon fishing line for selvedgeends at the fold, and “sticky warp” the whole way. After repeated frustrations, I resign myself to the thought of repairing hundreds of skipped threads after this comes off the loom. I have doubts that I will even be able to unfold the cloth all the way.
Whew! Was I wrong! I had far fewer skipped-thread repairs than I expected (only about 15). And the finished tablecloth is a gleeful ending to a what-did-I-get-myself-into adventure.
Puckers are whimsical surprises from ordinary threads.
I hope you enjoy this video review of the process:
My friends, thank you for walking with me on this weaving journey! July is the month for Warped for Good’s annual pause. I’ll meet with you right back here the first Tuesday in August.
May you find a gleeful ending where you least expect it.
On the Road Again was a special challenge issued to members of the San Antonio Handweavers Guild last fall: Pair up (by random selection) with another guild member. Learn where that individual would like to travel and make a handwoven bag that suits her or his needs. I learned that my On-the-Road-Again partner, Donna, is a world traveler and uses small makeup bags to organize her carry-ons. Likewise, I informed Donna that I like small bags that I can use to hold my travel weaving when Steve and I go camping in our Casita travel trailer. Our guild met last week and we got to unveil our special gifts to each other. I had the smart idea to present the bags nested inside each other. Imagine my surprise when I found that Donna had the same smart idea. What fun!
My contribution for Donna is three small zippered bags, and a linen washcloth to take with her on her travels.
Donna’s thoughtful exchange couldn’t be more perfect – three small zippered bags, and a drawstring bag to hold them all together. I have my band-weaving supplies in the bags, ready for my camping trip with Steve in a few days!
Even through randomwarp stripes you can see an ordered pattern in the cloth. Linen sitting on the shelf is begging to be used, even though the tubes are partly emptied. So, why not make some linen wash cloths to use every day?
The weave structure is a classic two-block broken twill, symmetrically threaded across the warp. The asymmetry of the warp stripes is out of sync with the precise threading symmetry in the block weave structure. And, asymmetrical patches of weft are out of step with a strict treadling sequence. The chaos of leftover-linen warp and weft threads has me holding my breath, wondering how this will turn out. Yet, as I weave, the surprise after surprise that appears on the loom fills me with delight. These humble linen wash cloths will yield textile pleasure for years to come.
The Grand Weaver breaks through chaos to reveal his beautiful plan. Despite the hardships we endure in this world, the structure threaded into the Grand Weaver’s fabric holds it all together. He brings our random stripes of emptiness into harmony with his project plan. We find continual delight as we see the surprising glory of his master plan. Jesus, with his deliberate stripes, comes to wash us clean.
I’m curious. How much difference will it make to change the direction of the design? I wove the first Windmill and Taildragger from the side. (See Time Lapse: Windmill and Taildragger on the Drawloom.) This second one, I am weaving from bottom to top. For one thing, I know I can enlarge the image if I turn it upright, giving me more distinct details.
This second Windmill and Taildragger is indeed larger, with smoother detail lines. No surprise. What does surprise me is how much simpler this one is to weave! The single-unit pulls are more manageable now that the design is turned in a lengthwise direction. Enlargement, clarity, and ease—all from a single design adjustment.
Spoken wishes express our needs. Our wishes are sincere, but hold no power in themselves. What if we turn the direction of our wishes? When we turn those expressions upward to God they become prayer. Prayer is an expression of belief. Jesus invites us to tell him our needs through prayer. Prayer enlarges and clarifies our hopes. You may be surprised how simple it is to take your needs to the Lord in prayer.