Max Goes Home

Day 93: For all of having enjoyed the quiet, smooth operation of a countermarch loom, the time has come for Max to end his stay here, and go home to daddy. When Daisy arrived, I discovered why weaving on Max had been harder for me. Daisy's breast beam is a full two inches lower, and although I've enjoyed having more space in which to work, Max is significantly deeper between the breast beam and the shafts. I am a small person. No, that's an understatement. I am a very small person, and consequently, when I sat at Max, I had to keep my elbows raised to pass the shuttle. Likewise, I found myself stretching too far forward as I tried to squeeze one more motif in before advancing the warp, and that action taxed my back. While I had originally intended to keep Max, working with Daisy convinced me that he needed to be returned to my weaving partner Ed who, at 6' 4" has no problems with either height or reach. I finished the eighth placemat last night (wait...I thought I'd warped for six?), and today worked the little sample for my weaving files. That said, I'll miss you, Max. We had some good weaves in your short tenure here.

Halfway Heddled

Day 230: I've reached a milestone. I have half of 1024 heddled threaded. But back up a bit. I had to MAKE almost all of those 1024 heddles as well, tying them out of crochet thread, seven knots per heddle (two each to make three square knots, and one for extra security at the top). This is just the prep work, folks. The actual weaving is going to be a piece of cake because it's a traditional 2/2 twill. That means it's easier to thread than a lot of drafts, just 1-2-3-4 over and over. I still verify at the end of each colour repeat because it's easy to pick up a heddle from shaft 2 instead of shaft 3 when you're dealing with a forest of heddles. I've caught two errors where I did just that, but it was quick to unthread and re-do the sequence. Better to find out now than when all 1024 are threaded! I've always maintained that threading is where a weaver's true talent is demonstrated . Any dingbat can treadle properly if they don't let their attention wander, and errors are usually relatively easy to fix, but a thread in the wrong heddle can mean hours of work lost and needing to be redone. Verify! Verify! Verify! In this case, it's easy. For example, for every big yellow block I should have six heddles threaded on each of four shafts. When I'm done threading the block, I check. If one shaft has five and another has three, I goofed somewhere. The same principle applies equally to colour sequences or pattern repeats. At the end of each "unit," verify to be sure the right number of heddles are on each shaft. It'll save you major headaches in the end.

Weaver's Worst Nightmare

Day 229: For the last several days, I have been living one of a weaver's worst nightmares. When I went to mount a new warp of expensive, fine (16/2) Scottish wool on the loom, I dropped half the cross.

For those of you who don't know, the cross is what keeps the threads in order. It is established when measuring a warp onto a warping board, and before the warp can be removed, the cross must be secured with ties or separators of some kind. I generally use little pieces of cardboard, inserting one on each side of the cross, then tying the ends together. In this particular case, I had wound the warp in two pieces (one on each of two warping boards). During the transfer process, one of the ties came loose, and one piece of cardboard slid out. Luckily, the second one remained in place. Even so, the cross had been free to "travel" down into the remaining warp, but fortunately, the wool was fairly "grabby," keeping it more or less in order. The operative words in that last sentence are "more or less." I still had to re-establish the cross without further tangling the threads. For obvious reasons, Merry was banished from the Loom Room for the duration. It took many hours to complete the job to my satisfaction.

The "grabbiness" of the wool worked both for and against me. It had kept the cross from becoming too tangled, but at the same time, it had a tendency to snarl at the lease sticks as I tried to wind on, especially in the section where I had manipulated it. An inch at a time, I coaxed the warp through the lease and onto the roller. The last photo in the series shows a perfect cross. It wasn't easy getting to that point, but patience prevailed. I'm still threading heddles (1024 of them!), but when I'm finished weaving it, this piece will be a shawl in my family tartan, McLeod of Lewis...a "bucket list" project which would make my mother proud.

The End Is Near!

Day 182: The end is near! That would be the end of "Friend Evelyn," you understand. I have roughly three feet to go on a 24-foot warp, and it will be ready to take off the loom in a few days, Catlet permitting. I have to say that while the front side places this pattern in my favourite overshots, the reverse is totally boring! Many times, the weaver has to make a judgment call on overshots...which side should be "up"...but with Friend Evelyn, it's obvious. That said, the face of the fabric more than makes up for the back's shortfall because it shows four motifs in a 2 x 2 grid, no two alike. Strangely enough, the treadling sequence was very easy to remember, and by the time I had woven a foot of cloth, I had it memorized. Now I need to dedicate myself to tying the last 200 of 600 string heddles and winding 1022 ends on the warping board for a shawl in my familyn tartan. Max may wind up sitting empty for a few days while I work on that part of the project.

Making String Heddles

Day 136: When Max, my Bergman countermarch loom, came to live at my house, he was dressed with a minimal amount of string heddles. Before I could work on a project of any size, I had to tie more, which meant that I needed a jig so they would all be the same size. The odds and ends of lumber and nails I had in my garage weren't particularly inspiring, so I cast about for anything else I might use. I'd nearly given up when the cribbage board came to mind. The pegs allowed me to set the distance from the ends to the heddle eye in a perfect match to the existing heddles, and a warping tool gave me a way to store them without tangling until I had made a batch (I tie them off in bundles of 50). I made 400 on that first run, sufficient for any of the panel widths I normally use for overshot. I thought that would hold me for the rest of my life, but then I was given a gift of enough 16/2 tartan wool (made in Scotland!) to weave a summer shawl. Drafting it out, I determined that I would need 920 ends, i.e., 920 heddles...oh, let's say another 400 just to be on the safe side. I've been pecking away at it (tying heddles is not my favourite occupation, believe me) and am making substantial progress. By the time I get "Friend Evelyn" off Max, I'll have enough tied for the tartan shawl.

Max's Christmas Weave

Day 74 (bonus edition): I've been working hard all day to get to this point. Max is fully warped, and I've run several throws of slicky cord to establish the width of the piece. This is my customary way of starting a piece of weaving...no toilet paper, no sticks, no rag strips...just six or eight throws of a nylon cord to space the warp. After I have woven an inch or so with the threads I am actually going to use, I will hemstitch over the first two true throws, and then I'll pull the slicky cord out. There is very little waste doing it this way. I have a selection of nylon cord in various diameters to match the threads I usually use. In this case, I'm going to be using 5/2 cotton for the overshot and 8/2 for the tabby. I chose a slicky cord similar to the 5/2 cotton. I'm pretty tired now, so I may not start the actual weaving until tomorrow, but at least Max is ready for his Christmas Weave!

Christmas Weave With Help

Day 73: I had intended to wait until I had a few throws or even a full motif on my Christmas Weave, but I had so much Help while warping that I simply couldn't wait until I finished threading the loom. I use poster board (one of the thinner types) to pad the warp as I wind it on to prevent the threads from sinking into the previous layer, and as they peel off the warp roller during the weaving process, I stow them behind a sheet of plywood against the wall to flatten them out a bit for the next time. I'd pulled out several sheets and dropped one of them as I walked around to the other side of the loom to run the crank. Merry, good little Weaver's Cat that he is, wasn't in his box when I turned around again, and then I noticed that the curled-up piece of poster board I'd dropped was wiggling. I peered inside. Yep, he was at the far end of the tunnel, so I grabbed a camera, but this is what greeted me when I came back into the room. Needless to say, I left this piece 'til last. Max is partially threaded, and I'll be done in time to put on an inch or three before bed tonight...with Help, of course.

Undressed For Christmas

Day 72: Most people put on finery (or at least an ugly sweater) for Christmas. Max got undressed instead. I have been diligently plugging away in the hopes of finishing the "weftovers" (i.e., the remaining warp) following three tablecloth panels, a length of roughly five feet. I wasn't sure I'd make my goal, but with Merry's cooperation, I got it done. I had also thought I might finish up the towels on the table loom in the living room, but discovered I had more warp left than I'd thought. Even so, I will probably be done with that in time to have a "New Year's Weave" on both looms. It's funny how those little personal goals can motivate. The idea is to set them just far enough out that you have to push yourself to achieve them, but not so far that you defeat yourself with something which is impossible to attain (or nearly so). Max already has a new warp in waiting: "Friend Evelyn" (an overshot) in "A Handweaver's Pattern Book" in two shades of green. Schacht (the table loom) is earmarked for an experiment with halvdräll, a Swedish technique which is sometimes described as a simplified overshot. Halvdräll only requires four shafts, two for the pattern and two for plain weave/tabby. I have yet to decide if I just want to weave a sample the first time around, or if I want to warp for a complete project. I'm not really fond of weaving on Schacht because the jacks are operated manually, placing too much strain on my repaired shoulder. That said, Max will be tied up for some time because again, I'll be weaving a coverlet in three panels. In any event, I'm excited by the prospect of new projects, as always.

Ways To Weave

Day 36: A weaving group I participate in on line is celebrating their anniversary today, and we were asked to take pictures of our various looms. This is my collection. From top left, they are Max (Bergman countermarch floor loom), Pippin (a "Weave Ahoy" 2-shaft) ... and Merry helping; Schacht table loom; Jutta (Leksand made by my weaving partner Ed) and Nelda (Glimakra band loom); two rigid heddles and a frame loom; inkle looms big and small; assorted manual looms, including three pin looms, a backstrap, a bandgrind and two types of tablet weaving cards. I usually have at least one of the two rigid heddles loaded, but since I direct-warp them (which is to say I stretch the threads from one end of the living room to the other) and have a Small Helper who loves to play with/eat strings, I haven't set either one up. Inky-Dinky Inkle's band was finished before bedtime last night, and I'll be putting a new warp on it today. Max's project is nearing completion, as are the bands on Jutta and Nelda. Time to reload!

Crow At The Loom

Day 30: Substantial progress is being made! My little helper was content yesterday to relax in his box (a USPS medium flat-rate into which he barely fits now) while I completed the fifth of seven colours on the last of three 68" tablecloth panels. Each colour consists of 9.5 small motifs, and Merry allowed me to work almost a full colour before my shoulders gave out. Sometimes he watched as the jacks rose and fell, intrigued by the motion but knowing he'd be exiled if he got too curious, but mostly, he was lulled to sleep by the gentle sounds of loom operation. Max (a countermarch) is so much quieter than my old loom! Weaving for me in any event is akin to meditation, especially when I get a good rhythm going. Likewise, Merry seemed to find it hypnotic. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier and his chin slid off the edge of the box, and then he curled up in a ball and began to snore, the very epitome of the weaver's cat in historic art. My next warp is already measured out, stretched on the warping board and ready to mount when the tablecloth is done. I don't know how much extra I'll have at the end of these panels (I always warp more than I need for a particular project), but it won't go to waste.

Under Construction - Wall Of Troy

Day 150: Construction has commenced on the Wall of Troy. I am amazed at how much easier it is to hang a warp on Max, owing to the way he was designed. I have mentioned before that Bergman looms can be folded up for transport or storage even when fully loaded with a project. This feature also allows the weaver to remove certain pieces which otherwise interfere with accessibility. The breast beam comes out and can be laid aside, making it easier to reach the warp threads where they lie across the lease sticks, thence to pull them through the heddles. With 480 ends to work with, I figured I would spend the entire day heddling, but the process went much faster than expected, and almost before I knew it (read, "a couple of hours later"), I was ready to thread the reed. That was nearly my downfall, and brings up the one design issue I find problematic with the Bergmans: the warp roller is mounted above the warp, not below, and therefore the warp itself is in shadow. For someone whose vision is poor in low light, this makes dark-coloured threads difficult to see. I thread from the middle outward both ways. After pulling the warp through the reed, I was ready to tie onto the cloth apron, but when I started on the center section, I discovered my sequence was short by five dark brown threads. Sure enough, they were hanging loose in front of the heddles. There was no recourse but to pull that half of the warp out of the reed to be re-threaded. It went fairly quickly since I was threading two ends per dent, but by the time I was done, I was tired and almost ready for bed. After a few minutes of down-time, I decided I couldn't sleep easily until I knew if I had done everything properly. And I had! The Lego-like structure of the Wall of Troy shows up beautifully in natural across a gradient of eight warm tones.

Playing Warp Chicken

Day 149: Sooner or later, anyone who weaves a lot is going to find themselves engaged in a game of warp chicken. I think I came closer this time than ever before, and all because I was determined to squeeze five towels out of a warp I'd measured for four. Having never woven on Max before, I wasn't sure how much loom waste to allow. I knew it would be less than on my old loom for purely mechanical reasons, and Max turned out to be very efficient in that regard. The knots behind the heddles prevented me from advancing the warp another step of the large gear, and on the front, I barely had room to pass a shuttle through the shed, certainly not enough to weave the small sample I usually include in my files. But better a whole towel than a swatch! And as of a few minutes ago, I was almost finished winding on a new warp. At the very least, I will be able to get the heddles and reed threaded today, although I may not have time before bed to start his next piece (well, maybe a few throws).

Comparative Working Distance

Day 141: Someone asked how Max's effective working distance compared to my old loom, so this morning, I did a test. I knew Max gave me more space, but I wasn't sure how much, although I did feel that it was a little bit more than my repaired shoulder could handle easily. Still, in the name of science, I thought (with a snicker) that I could "take it to the max" just this once. Normally, I wouldn't have pushed quite so far. As you can see, Max could feasibly give me ten inches before I had to advance the warp as compared to six inches on the old loom, but I am more comfortable with nine inches. Even at that, it represents substantially fewer times that I have to get up from the bench. And yes, I have to get up. My arms aren't long enough to control the brake and the roller at the same time.

Higher Mathematics

Day 140: Some technical explanations are in order here, but I will spare you the higher mathematics which woke me at 3 AM and kept me occupied until I finally relented and got out of bed. First, looms like my old one form sheds in one of two ways: they are either rising-shed, in which one layer of threads is raised as the other remains horizonal, or sinking-shed, in which one layer remains horizontal as the other is lowered. On the other hand, with a countermarch loom like Max, the shed opens in the middle, one layer rising as the other sinks simultaneously. Why does this matter? In both rising-shed and sinking-shed operation, there is a certain amount of friction and resistance on the weft as it is beaten into place. On a countermarch loom, it has a clear path and requires very little force by comparison. I simply bring the beater back, and the shed accepts the weft with no particular energy expenditure on my part. Owing to this bit of mechanics, the weft beats tighter, requiring more throws to achieve an inch of cloth. For Max's first piece, I warped for my default sett of 15-16 ends per inch (i.e., across the width of the fabric). However, 16 throws yields only 5/8" of cloth, as opposed to being balanced (16 epi:16 throws) on my old loom when using this fiber. In order to achieve a balanced weave with the same number of ends and throws per inch on Max, I need to make some adjustments. I promised to spare you the math, so just suffice to say that I think warping at 20 epi will bring the weave into balance, or as they say, "close enough for gov'mint work." This is particularly important when square motifs are desirable as they are in most overshot. As for Max's operation, he is an absolute dream! I knew that a countermarch loom would be quieter, but I had not expected the actual weaving to go any faster or to require less effort. In fact, I find myself referring to Max as "gentle" as our relationship develops. I needed that.

Max's First Warp

Day 139: First of all, let me explain that I'm working in really tight quarters here. In fact, I was standing INSIDE my old loom to take this photo of Max, who sits at 90 degrees to it with about 12" of space between the two. When the cord for the warp apron finally arrived yesterday and I had mounted it, I discovered why Bergman owners talk about "lowering the jack box." That is the apparatus which holds the harnesses and their myriad heddles. The way Bergman looms are constructed, the jack box has to be lifted off its pegs and dropped to rest on the frame of the loom at normal working height. This clears the pathway for the threads to be wound onto the warp roller which, you may notice is ABOVE the warp as it makes its rounds rather than below. It wasn't long before I figured out how much easier this makes several steps of the warping process. Go Bergman! Once the warp has been beamed onto the roller, the jack box is returned to its working position on the top of the loom (as shown in the photo), and threading the heddles may begin. Another marvelous feature of these looms is that they are foldable even when a project is in progress. Mine folds down to a mere 19" back-to-front. This also means that things which would normally get in your way or be awkward to work around can be removed and set aside. On my old loom, I always felt like I was breaking ribs as I stretched over the breast beam to retrieve threads from the lease sticks. Not with the Bergman! I simply remove the breast beam, put my little stool inside the loom frame and sit there merrily threading. When I'm done, I'll reinstall the breast beam and beater bar, thread the reed, bring the cloth apron (as opposed to the warp apron) up and around the breast beam, and tie the warp ends to its rod. After a few (I hope) adjustments to the tie-up, I should be ready to weave a twill colour gamp for Max's official baptism.

Colour Play

Day 125: While I never need an excuse to play with bright colours, Max has provided a perfect excuse to go hog-wild. You may recall that a couple of months back, I wove a pattern gamp using multiple threadings and treadlings in combination. It gave me a visual catalog of possibilities for future projects, a handy reference for patterns I might like to use together. A colour gamp works in much the same manner, demonstrating how colours interact with one another where weft crosses warp. I've been promising myself to weave one for years, but the idea was invariably back-burnered by something else. Max needs a fairly simple project for his inauguration since adjustments will need to be made to balance the shafts, so I thought, "Why not weave a twill colour gamp?" I'm making it wide enough to be towels (very colourful towels, mind you) with 16 threads each of 15 different colours. I will cycle the weft through the same sequence every 16 throws in a pattern called "vertical herringbone." The optical effect should be dazzling, blinding, verging on psychedelic, and just a whole heck of a lot of fun for a colour lover like me.

String Heddles

Day 118: One of the things I have to do before Max is fully functional is to make more string heddles. Yesterday, you saw my improvised jig (the cribbage board). So far, I have tied 125 new heddles to supplement those already on the loom. My old loom has roughly 200 per shaft, and on one notable occasion, I ran out while I was threading and had to shift some from a different shaft without losing what threading I had already done (about 3/4 of a large project). I'll spare you the details. Just suffice to say that I had to remove screws from the upper inner sides of some shafts while keeping other shafts elevated, then lower them to remove the corresponding screws at the bottom of the frame, thread on new heddles and then reverse the process to put it all back together again. The job required every single one of my father's tractor-starting words as well as some new ones I made up along the way. The takeaway from the experience was that you should always count first. In any event, my goal is to have 300 heddles on each shaft. Max came equipped with 100 per shaft, therefore for four shafts, I need to tie 800 total. I can do a smaller project for his christening and undoubtedly will do exactly that, but I'll keep pecking away at heddle-tying until I reach the finish line.

Max

Day 115: Say hello to Max, my "new" four-shaft countermarch Bergman loom, est. construction date 1940-50. Max is a hand-me-down from my weaving buddy Ed, who restored the loom but never had the opportunity to weave anything on it before inheriting an eight-shaft loom of the same make. We spent yesterday putting this one together, all but the tie-ups which are rather more complicated on a countermarch. I'm clear on the principle and will be working on that part of the set-up as soon as I'm thoroughly rested. I also need to tie more string heddles, although there are enough on the shafts for a small project already. Why "Max?" Because he MAXimized the available work space in the Loom Room, cramped in between my old floor loom (currently loaded with a project which will take about a month to complete) and craft cupboards, leaving just enough open floor for me to set a bench in front. It won't always be this tight. My old floor loom goes to a new weaver who I will be teaching to use it, and Max will shift into the spot it presently occupies. We're playing "musical looms" here, and from what I've seen, the weaving community works that way. That's why so many of these old guys are still around.