Plugging Along

 

a peek at the backside of the cloth currently on the loom - the selvedges are not 'perfect' but are pretty consistent - they also tend to curl or roll at the selvedge, which I don't fuss over, just leave them to do what they will do under pressure from the highly twisted weft yarn...

I will frequently weave a cloth 'upside down' because I can lift fewer shafts that way.  It means I see the back of the cloth while I'm weaving, but that's ok.  You can sort of see that in the photo, the cloth that will be the 'front' is visible underneath and the side I see is almost all white.  The image is the 'reverse' from the front, so the back is mostly white with blue, the front will be mostly blue with some white.

The yarns are not the same grist (or thickness); the warp is 2/16 cotton, the weft is single 6 cotton.  Getting the proper 'balance' between the two thicknesses took some time (yes, samples) but I think it's turning out quite well.  Of course, I didn't know for sure until I wet finished the samples, but now it's just a matter of weaving.

The next warp will be the same combination as I continue my quest to weave down my stash.

I was a production for most of my career, so I didn't just buy for 'a' scarf or 'a' set of placemats - I was weaving multiples, offering them for sale for years at craft fairs, and for about 10 or so years via an industry 'show' for gift shop buyers.  

And largely, that is what I am still trying to use up.  Once I've done this run of tea towels, I will pivot to my silk and my cashmere stashes.  I collected a fairly large stash of cashmere, making a few now and then using silk as warp.  And then I inherited a silk stash, which is largely far too fine for me to use these days (eyes are not as good as they once were), and which I've gifted to a couple other weavers who like to work in fine silk.  Since I will never get to most of it, it will be passed to someone else, I suppose.

The thing is, fine threads go a very long way.  In some cases, the silk yarn has literally miles per pound.  (Yes, it does.)  I don't have the time, energy or spools to try to wind the skeins off and try to ply them to make thicker yarn, so I honestly don't know what I will do with it.

But I hear that another weaving workshop will be offered locally in February, so hopefully the weavers will increase.  And maybe some of them will be interested in working with finer threads?

I didn't make it to the loom yesterday - getting the rayon chenille was more taxing than I expected (never underestimate the emotional ties we develop with our yarns?) and then I had a lovely visit with a friend.  We are looking forward to a more relaxed visit after the holiday.  The weather is very...winter-y...and they are on the road to visit family.  Our entire province is being assailed by winter - if you have spare time to send some positive energy our way, it would be lovely.

In return I send out gold dust to all who need it, with best wishes for 'better' in the new year.  The past couple of years have more than enough challenge for me, at least, and I know I'm not alone.

Happy holidays, whatever you celebrate.

Does It Bring Joy?

 

just some of the bags of the rayon chenille yarn being donated for the stash busting sale at the guild next month...

We spent some time today clearing off one shelving unit of rayon chenille, bagging it up after sorting into the 3 'sizes' represented there. and labelling the bags of yarn with the number of yards/pound for easy identification.

l have agonized for months (years!) over this yarn.  I used to make rayon chenille scarves and sold them as part of one of my 'lines' of scarves at craft fairs.  People tended to love them.  The bright saturated colours, the texture, the drape.  But they were not a lot of fun to make, honestly.  I got pretty good at working with colours, usually in stripes of one sort or another.  And I learned a lot about how colour mixes in a woven cloth, so it wasn't really a hardship.  Just limited in scope.  Plus I grew to really dislike the fringe twisting because it was hard on my fingers/hands.

But I loved the colours.  I like working with saturated colours, and having a shelf full of nice bright colours of all sorts (because I had to make a range of colours, ones that weren't my personal favourite, included.)

As my health deteriorated, I would glance at the shelf full of yarn and quickly look away.  The more I thought about it, the worse I felt about hanging onto it.  Some of it was likely getting too old to be useful as warp - and of course you can't tell until you get it into the loom.

I toyed around with selling it on, but I had dribs and drabs as well as full cones, too much of some colours, not enough of others.  I offered it on here for free if someone would save me the emotional toll of packing it up and taking it away.  

And then I heard that the guild was going to offer members to recycle their stashes by having a 'stash busting' sale in January.

I asked if I could donate my rayon chenille and the guild could have the money and was instantly accepted.  The time line isn't long, which was even better.  No time to re-think.  No time to select some of the yarn and keep it in case I wanted to weave with it again.  Just a nice short timeline to deliver it all to the guild room in the new year and clear it out of my studio.

Intellectually I was more than happy to do this.  As it was happening, however, I found that I still had an emotional tie to the yarn.  I have a pretty good idea of how much money it took to invest in that yarn - in production quantities.  I have a decent idea of how many scarves a person could make with it.  Or to replace it if I should desire to do so (I don't.  I won't.)

But I cannot.  It is beyond my capacity to do.  And even IF I can recover more of my physical fitness, do I really want to spend what little time I have left on making more rayon chenille scarves?

The honest answer is...no.  Much better that I let someone else have the pleasure of making something with the yarn, than let it degrade further so that it won't be useful for anything much?

I have no idea if there are enough weavers in this town to buy even half of the yarn that will be delivered to the guild room in January.  But the guild has a 'yarn by donation' corner, so perhaps it will eventually find a home.  

And one less thing for me to see in the corner of my eye and feel guilty about not using.  One way or another - my stash must shrink.

Stocking Stuffers

 

The solstice cometh, and the turning of the sun from travelling south, to returning north.  A time of change, of returning of the light.

This month has pivoted to a renewed effort on my part to try and deal with the copious amounts of clutter in my life.  I was also reminded again that NA society generally takes this time of year to give (and receive) gifts.  With everything so uncertain now, it is possibly time to remind people of certain things that could be used a stocking stuffer as a 'last minute' gift.

If you want my books (available in print in the US, no tariffs, or pdf everywhere) they can be found at blurb.com

If you want online classes I have 4 at School of Sweet Georgia.

Classes are also available through Long Thread Media (Handwoven).

If you are interested in magazine articles, I continue to write for WEFT magazine.

And today I begin bagging up my rayon chenille stash for delivery to the guild room after the holiday, freeing up a whole shelving unit to store woven goods that have outgrown the two other shelving units.

It is snowing today and parts of the province are still labouring under snow advisories and warnings about being prepared for winter driving conditions.

As the solstice represents the 'new year' to me, I will send all my very best wishes for the coming of the light and the new year.

Dealing with Mistakes

 

I mentioned last time that I had a couple of threading errors that I fixed while I was still in the threading stage.  One meant I had to hang an 'extra' end, and in another I had a couple 'extra' threads that I removed from the warp.  

The 'extra' end is the tag end of a tube that I threaded into the heddle and reed, then passed under the rail above the back beam, then over the ceiling bar and let down so that as I weave, the tube climbs up as the warp advances.

The other tube I tied the 'extra' ends to a bit of yarn left on the tube and hung it off the ceiling bar and the excess yarn drops as the warp advances.  After weaving for 30 minutes they are about at the same level.  When I go back to the loom I will raise the one and lower the other and keep weaving.

Since I cut off the web partway through, I will need to remember to set the tube with the replacement end so that it won't pull out of the reed and heddle and fall to the floor.  But it's kind of hard to forget it when I have to keep moving it each time I weave.

(But not impossible!)

Here's the thing with weaving mistakes.  They happen.  I don't focus on the fact I made the mistake, but on how to fix it.  Or if I will even bother to fix it.  I am no longer exhibiting my work, and most of my mistakes are not very obvious.  If they are too obvious, I label them 'seconds' and either gift them or mark them down to recoup my financial investment of yarn.

Mostly I've been making tea towels, and even ones that have minor mistakes will still dry the dishes.

And I *can* still weave (so far).  And right now that is a lot more important to me that I make only 'perfect' textiles.

"Forget your perfect offering.  Everything has a crack in it.  It's how the light gets in."  Leonard Cohen.

Rough Patch

 

Life is full of rough patches.  We think - assume - that we have total control over our lives but the reality is that we do not.  What we have is the power to react to what happens, and then try to chart a path through those rough patches.

To be honest, I have pretty much bluffed my way through the past 15 or so months.  I'm pretty good at staying positive, looking for solutions, making plans, sticking with them (until I can't), pivoting when what I want to do simply cannot be done.

I try to not let 'positivity' turn toxic.  Swallow hard and change direction when something is clearly not working.

I had such high hopes of the new pain management plan, and the past month has been...awful.  I am no stranger to chronic pain, goodness knows.  But I am run ragged with trying to manage something that simply refuses to respond in a way that is helpful to me.  In a way that allows me to carry on doing what I love to do - teach, write, and above all, weave.

I have managed to continue to weave, but nearly every warp has been a challenge in one way or another.  I have managed a series of tea towels that all have 'issues' - some obvious, some not so obvious.  But since I have been using weaving primarily as therapy as I try to recover from the brain bleed, I didn't worry much about the 'flaws'.

A few days ago I told a friend that I have been holding onto the knot in the end of my rope for so long I'm not even sure it is actually attached to anything, or if I am down a hole hanging onto a rope that can never help lift me out of that hole.  

I have tried (so hard) to come up with something that will help and I'm exhausted by the trying.  How does that song go - if that is all there is, my friend, then let's keep dancing...

When I retired from production weaving, I made a serious effort to get rid of things that were no longer needed in the studio.  But I still had a gigantic yarn stash.  Since the end of 2019 I have steadily worked to weave down that stash.  And I have been successful, by and large.  I have given some yarn to friends, but most of them already have large stashes of their own and are in the same age bracket as me so they don't want much of anything.

I offered on this blog to give my rayon chenille stash away, but yesterday I met with the guild treasurer who brought me up-to-date on the guild activities, and they are planning a big 'stash busting' sale in January, to I asked if I could donate the rayon chenille to the guild and they could sell it and derive the income for guild activities.  She agreed with enthusiasm, and for the next couple of weeks Doug will help me by a) bringing my unsold inventory back to the house and help me sort and put the inventory away, b) sort through the rayon chenille, and bag the cones/tubes up in clear plastic bags then carry them up to the guild room once they have moved into the new, enlarged guild room in the new year.

I even have a scarf I can provide woven with Brassard 2/16 bamboo as warp and the rayon chenille as weft so weavers can see the quality of cloth that is possible with those yarns.

While I did manage to use up some of my rc stash, what is left still takes up one entire shelving unit.  Once that yarn is gone, I can take some of my plastic bins, currently on the floor, and get them put up on the shelves.

In the meantime I am nearly finished setting up the next towel warp.  I have enough 2/16 cotton to do one more warp after this one, and then I am essentially 'out' of 2/16 yarn and if I want to do more towels I will need to buy more yarn.  Before I contemplate that (gazing the boxes of towels that will be coming home from the sales tomorrow) I will begin working on the silk and cashmere.  Now that is a combination that I really want to enjoy working with.  

In the meantime, after talking to the pain doctor on Monday, I have one final Hail Mary to try and of course we are heading into the holidays so I'm having trouble putting my hopes/plans into action.  But I have a path forward.  I don't know what that path looks like because I cannot see into the future.  But I have a plan.  I have connected with a couple of people that I need to talk to.  I have some things I can do myself until I can connect with professionals.  

It seems I am not done yet.

When Progress Is Measured in Millimeters

 

Weaving is one of those crafts (like many others) where the prep work is all done in order to *get* you to the fun part - the shuttle throwing.  And all of it has to be done *before* you can have the fun.  It's rough for some people to do the stuff that needs to be done, I assume because society (in North America, at least) has gotten used to the instant gratification of so many things.  Somehow human beings have become accustomed to pushing a button, or whatever, and voila, out pops a finished item, all perfect.

But the prep work is what makes the craft especially interesting - to me.  Making minor tweaks, trying this, that, making samples, wet finishing them, re-assessing them.  Deciding what to do.  It is a constant state of questioning, and then trying to find the answers that will get me the results I desire.

I'm nearly finished with the singles 6.  Two more warps and I think I will declare that I am 'done' with it and pass whatever is left onto...anyone who wants it?  I'm not sure how much will be left, but I'm tired.

I'm beyond the point of wanting to put up with the clutter and mess in my studio, my life.  I want to weave down other parts of my stash.  Get rid of it.  Clear the shelves off so I can put some of the boxes and bins *still* on the floor, onto shelves.  I want less.

I never thought I would come to this place in time, but my body is saying 'enough'.  

To that end I made a decision today - if any local weavers want to come to my house with boxes and clear out my entire rayon chenille stash?  They are welcome to do it.  I have many pounds of the stuff, but I've made as many rayon chenille scarves in my lifetime that I can't even look at it anymore.  Some are partial cones, some are full.  Most is in the 1450 to 1300 yyp range.  Some is a bit finer, some a bit thicker.  But I am just done.  So 'locals' (you define 'local') you get first dibs.  No charge, but you do all the packing up and carrying it away.  (email laura@laurafry.com)

In the meantime I made at least two threading errors, which are now fixed, in part because I keep the entire threading draft to hand, and then I group each repeat as a bundle, so I knew exactly what area the mistakes were in and I could easily locate the area and double check to make sure I'd make it proper again.  It means I needed to hang an 'extra' thread in one location, and 3 threads will be put onto a tube.  The excess ends will feed off as I advance the warp, and the repair 'extra' warp end will rise as I advance the warp.  I'll lower the one and raise the other as I go.  Since I have a rod in the ceiling to suspend them from, I only need to stop when I'm done weaving for the day and adjust them.

My last warp is now wet finished and ready for their finishing press.  They have a wee oopsie, but since more of my towels are being given away these days, I'm not bothered about it.  They will still dry dishes.  Or whatever.

Tomorrow I am supposed to talk to the pain doc.  I'm hoping to get some more information and see if he has a Plan B.  Once I have more information I will be making some more Big Decisions about things.

Life is never easy.  But it is endlessly fascinating.  

Endings

 

This morning as I sat drinking my coffee and reading through social media, I was served up a meme with a quote by Brian Cox, the scientist (not the actor). 

Over the years I've enjoyed his programs on science, so I was interested in this quote:

"The ultimate paradox, of course, is that even though we're all going to die, we've all got to live in the meantime."

Given I am in the 'twilight' of my years (and privileged to be so) I have spent a fairly long time working out how I am going to live before it is time to die.

I've made mistakes.  I've done stupid things.  I've said hurtful things, and had some hurled at me.

I hope I have learned from those.  I have tried to be a better human as a consequence of messing things up.  To fix what I can.  To walk away when things have not worked out, and done that without flouncing.  Just...go my way and try to do better next time I mess up.

Which is a whole lot like weaving, too.  So many ways that weaving and learning feed my life.  

But I'm still here - long beyond when I thought I would be.  Frankly, given my family history, I wasn't sure I would make it to 75.  My father and brother both gone in their 50s.  Many others gone long before I hit my 70s.  Mom was an outlier in her family, living to 90.  

I could have died last year.  But I didn't.  But the past few years have not been, well, kind to me.

And so I am left with that one crucial task to tend to:  figure out how I will live the rest of my life.

Expectations have fallen by the wayside.  Energy is practically non-existent.  But I keep working to try and make things 'better'.

And while we rarely know the day of our death, it is a good idea to keep in mind - no one gets out of 'here' alive.

I talk to the pain doc next week.  I have no idea what - if anything - more he can do for me.  But I've got a warp on the loom.  I still (oh my gawd, yes *still*) have yarn that wants weaving.  I have an article I've tentatively begun for WEFT, and possibly another in the wings.

These things are carrots I hold before my nose, like you'd do to a horse, to keep them coming along.

As I go through my days, I try to help others, as best I can.  I try to encourage others.  

And if that is all I can manage in a day, well, it's better than sitting around feeling sorry for myself and *not* doing anything.  Because one thing I've come to realize, the pain is here and it's not going to go away - probably.  I cannot wallow in the mire of the fields of pain.

Today one of Santa's helpers delivered a gift, which means I have some new puzzles to build, too (two arrived a few days ago, personally delivered.)  

As for my house?  Yes, it's a mess.  But even in that we have managed to tame a few piles of clutter.  It's too little to make a dent, but *I* know that we've tried.  And if my energy 'holds', if my desire to leave less clutter and mess behind continues, there will be less of my mess to toss when I shuffle off this mortal coil.

And if this post is too morbid, I'm sorry.  But just like oil and gas will run out, my life force will, at some point in time.  If we don't deal with oil and gas and get alternatives, humanity is going to have to do some fast turn arounds.  As for me?  Well, again, no one gets out of here alive.  And I'm embarrassed at the stuff I've accumulated over the years.  It's hard to let some of it go.  But I will have to when the time comes.  Might as well take the burden of my spouse and friends and deal with it myself.

And who knows?  Maybe the pain doctor will have another strategy up his sleeve.  It's harder to remain hopeful and optimistic, but I'm trying.  And I will know more next week?  One way or another...