Caterpillar rugs.

Sometimes when I get off on a tangent, I can't stop myself. Karen over at Karen in the Woods started something when she suggested that I put the heel strips in a solid color rug, interspersing them randomly.
I made three black ones, then I decided to try a white one.

From Crazy as a Loom

I am kind of liking it, but of course, I would love your feedback. There is nothing like objective opinions to put me on the right track.
I think I could call them 'Caterpillar Rugs'.

From Crazy as a Loom

I should have been working on an order, but I didn't. I know it will be there on Monday, and next week is a good time to start it. This week, I am goofing off.

I was reading interesting stuff over at Bonnie's blog, about authenticity and blogging. It was a great topic, with a lot of great responses.
It got me to thinking about the blogs I read, how different they are, and how different I feel when I read them. I don't think I follow any blogs that don't feel authentic to me.
I started this blog because I wanted to promote my weaving studio. I was trying to figure out the direction that Crazy as a Loom needed to go in, so I started writing about it, thinking that somehow that would clear it up for me.
But then I needed to tell you all about saving stray cats, and taking my granddaughters to sheep shearing day at Sheila's, and that to die for pie I made. Then there were rugs, and looms, and and snow storms, pit bulls and Fenway park. Life, my life. My blog.
It just happened, that soon I was telling you what moved me, what worried me, what just plain teed me off.
I even wrote you a poem.
And I started looking at my life through the lens of a camera, seeing all those shots that I would have previously missed.
There have been days that I have actually taken time off from my obsession to work, and had FUN, so I could blog about it later. And you know what, it was fun TWICE. Living my life, writing about it.
Who knew.
A long time ago, a friend told me something that someone had said about me. At first I was surprised, I guess I never thought about people NOT liking me. I figured I was a pretty likable person.
The comment was,"You may like Hilary, or not like her, but you always know where she's coming from."
So OK. Not the prettiest, not the smartest (although I am one point smarter than DH, sorry sweetie) not the thinnest, nor the youngest, not the oldest, not the most talented. But real, and honest.
Straightforward. Sometimes blunt.

With luck, authentic. I have wanted to be many things in my life, I never thought authentic would be one of them.
In some strange way, I think blogging leaves no room for anything else.