Winding Up Projects

Day 27: I'm winding up several projects, both in the figurative and literal senses of the phrase. The blue and white shawl is done, right down to the last twisted fringe, ready to be sent off to the Nisqually Land Trust for auction at a later date. The black slub yardage is also done, although it will remain on the loom until I've finished the multicoloured table runner which uses most of the same warp threads. I wasn't sure how far the slub would extend, so I wound on extra warp, thinking I might make a couple of twill towels using cottons as the weft. As it turned out, I might have been able to squeeze two towels out of the remaining warp, but it would have been tight. I decided it was best to make a runner instead and...oh, hey, look at this! I have just enough of that "Mexicali" perle cotton left! I'd been wondering how I was going to use it up, and bingo, question answered. This is the benefit of isolation. It is compelling me to make use of what I have in my stash (and believe me, my stash is considerable!), so I'm trying to utilize the tag ends of weaving cones and yarn skeins without making it obvious that I've done so. Towels, runners, throw pillows, scarves and shawls are a good way to do that. A stripe here, a wide band there, and Bob's your uncle. It takes a bit more creativity and planning than simply winding a plain warp, but that's the fun of weaving.

A New Old Loom

Day 9: Earlier this year, one of the members of our Morris-dance side offered me an old loom she thought she'd never use. Never one to pass up a fiber-arts tool, I masked up and went to collect it. She'd stacked the pieces on her porch so that we could maintain social distance while I loaded it into my car, but to my way of thinking, there was a lot more wood in the pile than could be accounted for in the structure of a single loom. Once I got home, I began sorting parts and in the end, found that they went together to make a simple frame loom, one large and two smaller rigid heddle looms. The mid-size rigid heddle is shown here with its first project half-loaded. It came with one heddle, the dents much too large for any of my preferred weaving fibers, so I started looking for smaller gauge reeds with very little success. The manufacturer was unknown and the dimensions didn't seem to correspond with any name brand, so I got on the horn to the nice people at Halcyon Yarns to see what they could recommend. In the end, I bought two Schacht reeds and cut them down to fit the blocks. As engineering projects go, it wasn't a difficult task, and the end result was that I now have a fully functional 21-inch rigid heddle loom, perfect for those larger short-term projects like this shawl.

Christmas 2014

Day 74: Thank you, my readers, for the wishes you asked me to convey to this wonderful man who has been my friend and fishing buddy for many years. Some few of you have met him; others know him only from my descriptions. He knows and remembers your personal stories as well, because I often speak of you to him. Occasionally he surprises me with a question: "How are the girls back east doing? How's that man in New Zealand who lost his leg? Do you still hear from your friend in Chicago, the geocacher?" "Yes," I reply, "he/she asked me about you last week." You are a part of his world, and he loves you for caring about him, even though you may only be known to him as a name or a photo. He is touched by your sentiments, which through me, become bright spots in his day. When I passed your greetings along to him yesterday, he said, "Tell them thank you for me," and so I am, by bringing you this image from our Christmas, a good Christmas because it was spent with my old, dear friend.

The Finished Shawl

Day 53: No sage philosophy today, folks. Friends in several different venues have been after me to post a photo on completion of the shawl I've been knitting for my fishing buddy. You're probably going to ask, "For a man?" Yes, because he's always cold these days, and with shaky hands and arms he can't always control, it's hard to stay covered up in a blanket. This drops over the head and can't come loose because the center section is made of "fingers" woven together. The remainder of the shawl is knit in basket-weave, carrying the theme.

For many years, I fished alone. Then one chilly day in March when I was working the waters of Alder Lake to no avail near the mouth of the Nisqually River, I spotted someone coming along the bank, fishing pole in hand. I watched him carefully, ready to bawl somebody out for fishing in the river out of season (the lake was open, but not the river), but he seemed to be coming steadily on toward my spot. When he got within speaking distance, we exchanged the typical civilities of fishermen and he settled in to fish beside me.

Neither of us were having any luck, and I was just starting to think that I might go home and warm up when I got a bite. I could tell it was a good-sized fish, so I was playing it carefully. My erstwhile companion sidled over a little closer...closer...and I was seized with a sudden fear that he was going to try to be "helpful" by grabbing my line, not realizing what I was doing. My attention shifted to him and off the fish, and as luck would have it, just as I got it near the shore, it got stuck between two rocks. My reaction was to jerk (bad move!), and I heard a sickening "ping" as my line parted. I looked down, and saw the fish, somewhat dazed, only inches away from my feet. I made my second bad move of the day, and thirty seconds later, rose out of the water with nothing dry but one spot on the back of my head. A slick rock had been my undoing, and I'd gone face-first into the cold, clear waters of the lake.

Now frozen to the bone and wet besides, I announced that I was going home for a change of clothes. At that moment, Sande hooked a fish. The Bite was on! I do not believe there is a fisherman alive who could have walked away at that moment, nor did I. I cast my line and reeled in a nice silver. We kept fishing, the two of us, until we'd limited. Halfway through when he noticed I was visibly shivering, Sande gave me his jacket like a true gentleman.

As we walked back to our respective cars, the man I'd just met asked me a question: "Would you like to go fishing with me again some time?" And that was how our relationship began.

Sande is 94 now, suffering with Parkinson's and living in an elder-care facility. I see him often, and when he's able, we talk about the good old days and all the fish we caught. Once upon a time, he wrapped me in his jacket. Now I will wrap him in this shawl, our friendship coming full-circle.

No Idle Hands

Day 49: Of the many things my grandmother taught me, one basic piece of philosophy stands out: keep your hands busy. She expressed this tenet by saying, "Idle hands are the devil's playground," and while I don't believe in devils, it's quite true that boredom opens doors for mischief in most people, mild or otherwise. It may manifest as something as simple as snacking too heavily. After all, your hands want something to do. Why shouldn't they pick up a scoop of nuts or a piece of chocolate and convey it to your mouth? Busy hands are happy hands, and as you might infer, mine have had plenty to do with more to come. This display doesn't show what's already boxed for shipping, just a few last-minute projects to keep my fingers out of trouble.

Brocade

Day 78: I've never won anything at a lottery, never got a prize at Bingo, and if there are 60 attendees at an event and a door prize for each one, my name will invariably be the last one called. I don't have bad luck. I simply don't have any luck at all. That said, I do know some tricks to work a silent auction, and therefore was able to score the one item I coveted when it was offered at the Park Christmas party. This sumptuous piece of heavy Thai brocade (fiber content unknown) is a shawl approximately 44" x 80", and was begging to be part of Capt. Morgan Corbye's wardrobe. I managed to walk away with it for a mere $12. As her official biographer, it would have been unseemly for me to have failed to present the Captain with a gift. Even pirates enjoy Christmas.