Loom Room Blooms

Day 38: A certain mischievous varmint's propensity for getting into things he's not supposed to get into means that my Christmas cacti remain in the Loom Room window rather than being brought out and placed on the mantel when they come into bloom. Strangely enough, he heeds my admonitions of "No, not for kitties!" and "Off! Curl up in your little weaver's box and be good!" when I'm back there, although once he's had his nap and wakes up again, I may have to repeat myself. In actuality, I haven't been weaving much lately. I have a very boring project on Max at the moment, and I've been otherwise occupied with finishing up some Christmas gifts, quilting and embroidering, all of which are crafts I do in the living room. I nearly missed the picotee cactus' flowering period, but it alerted me to the buds coming on the yellow and white ones shown here. The white is particularly lush this year. Maybe I should take its hint and finish up those monotonous placemats while it's in full splendor.

Weaver's Box

Day 153: "I'm gonna go weave. Are you comin' with me? Go get in your little weaver's box!" He leaps out of his cushy-bed and runs for the Loom Room door. Okay, we've had to graduate to a large priority mail box because 14.5 pounds of cat no longer fits in a medium size, but he prefers the box to his hammock. But what is it about weaving which makes him want to be in the Loom Room? Certainly, he likes to be with mama, whatever she's doing, but he generally gets in his weaver's box and immediately curls up and goes to sleep. Is it the sound of the loom? A countermarch loom doesn't clank and rattle like other looms, largely because it (Max, anyway) uses string heddles. Even so, the raising and lowering of the shafts is noisier than I'd think a sleepy kitty would like. Is it the rhythmic cadence of treadling, passing the shuttle, beating? I find the loom's voice almost hypnotic, definitely meditative (and of course there is no other sound in the room except for the occasional wheezy snore coming from the Box). It's not the Box itself. The same box in the living room holds no particular appeal. Whatever magic the loom casts, Merry has fallen under its spell, a true weaver's cat.

Good Little Weaver's Cat

Day 63: "I'm gonna go weave. You wanna come with me?" The ears perk up and he raises his head from the cushion of his kitty perch next to my chair in the living room. "Go get in your little weaver's box." He jumps down and races for the Loom Room, immediately jumping up onto the cedar chest to curl up in the box. He can't bear to have me out of his sight, and he knows that if he messes with dangling strings, tie-ups, treadles, heddles or my Christmas cactus collection, he'll be exiled. I sit down to weave, and after the first dozen or so throws, I hear the sound of a contented cat snoring. He's with his mama, and that's all that matters. After I've completed eight inches or so, my shoulders are beginning to object. "Time to go out," I say. And down he hops, has a good stretch to get the kinks out, then exits to the living room, claiming my chair before I even get there.

False Damask Projects

Day 106: When I was ready to warp the table loom with another round of false damask, I got a little carried away and measured off more than I'd really intended. The first banner (a sailboat, reversible) was a birthday present requiring timely shipping, so when I finished the weaving, I cut it off, re-tied the warp, and began the second project ("The Loom Room") with nothing particular in mind for the remaining warp. When I came to the end of it, I realized there was still a lot of warp left on the roller, so I began a third piece (the leaves and berries, right), but even after that piece was done, I still had warp remaining. I couldn't bring myself to throw it away or consign it to the thrums bag, but honestly, I was pretty tired of false damask at that point. It's a demanding weave with a lot of pickup and a lot of bending over sideways to be certain of a clear shed before throwing the shuttle. I decided to put a small area of pattern on each end of a fingertip towel, with the center portion worked in the twill. Now I just have to do the finishing work, turning/sewing rod pockets and twisting fringe. I think I'll take a break from false damask for a while. As much as I love the effect, it's a lot of work on a four-shaft loom.

In Case I Forget

Day 28: You know how it is with little old ladies. Just in case I forget where I am, I thought I needed a sign to remind me. Seriously, though...I have been thoroughly enjoying weaving false damask and had a little bit left over at the end of a project which I didn't want to go to waste. I've often thought about making a needlework sign for the Loom Room just because...well, because it would be somewhere else I could hang a piece of fiberart. Actually, I have very little of my own work on display. There are functional items in service, to be sure, like the runner on the harpsichord and a tablecloth in the kitchen, but most of the things I create go as gifts. Since I designed this piece over Día de los Muertos, the top will be finished off with a simple simulated (i.e., woven) papel picado.

The Loom Room

Day 51: The Loom Room received an unscheduled reorganization a few days ago when the ancient computer I had been using for backup image storage finally gave up the ghost with much wheezing, gasping and choking in its final moments. I've been expecting its demise for some time, even anticipating the event in the hopes of gaining a bit more space in these crowded quarters. Its footprint has now filled by the sewing machine, out of the kitchen at long last, and some minor shifting of furniture made it easier for me to access a crafts cupboard. The old HP has been sectioned and its recyclable bits binned appropriately, while the hard drive and motherboard are slated for eventual destruction. Besides giving me a certain feeling of satisfaction as I dismembered the beast, its absence makes the Loom Room a more pleasant work area, somewhere I can hide out when I've had it up to the eyeballs with technology. Consequently, the waffle-weave throw is going a bit faster now. Who knows? I might even get some of those bins of yarn used up and gain even more space!

Avalanche!

Day 41: For the most part, my Christmas cacti tend to bloom first on one side and then on the other due to the fact that I seldom rotate them on their shelf. I must have shifted this one a few times during the summer because it came on with a veritable avalanche of snow-white blossoms. It's one of my older plants. I keep all of them pruned back to save space so that they can all fit in the one small south-facing window available for horticulture. The Loom Room tends to be the coolest spot in the house during the winter despite its exposure, and the cooler nighttime temperatures help keep the blooms true to colour. If the plants are kept too warm, they may take on a pinkish cast. That said, my toes all too often develop a bluish tinge when I'm weaving in the wintertime.