A little point twill and some renovations.

 My head told me, about 5 a.m., that it was cold and gray and gloomy.   I didn't even have to open the blinds to see if that was correct.
I knew it was.
But I held on to the vision of my "waiting warp" and kept moving forward.
Some raisin toast and tea and Motrin.
And a little attitude thrown in for good measure.
Hell, yes.  I can do it.

Just recently, I spent my tax money on insulation.  The taxes will wait a bit.  I was sick of being cold at the studio.  I did some research, and all the "old house" gurus said: insulate the floors, and the attic, and stop all cold air everywhere by blocking up all the places it comes in.

So for a week, L and I heard pounding and commotion beneath us as we wove.  The floors are almost done.  I had to stop when my money ran out, and will continue again when I can.  But almost the entire ceiling in the cellar is insulated, and the difference is very apparent.  It is an old dirt floor basement, with stone walls.  While my worker bee was down there, he caulked up all the places in the stone that let air in, and he built an insulated "inside" door to the hatchway outside.  It's even warmer down there.
I want him to finish that, and then as money allows, insulate the attic.  I believe it's money well spent.


Then I have this other idea brewing in my head.   It's kind of in preparation for the day when I live at the studio.  Someday.
There is a small half bath off the kitchen, which in itself is really not appropriate in my book.  I do not like bathrooms off the kitchen.   Not.

And the kitchen is small, and not very efficient.
Right next to the kitchen is the old dining room, which of course is a "loom room" at present.   It is a little dark.  The windows face west, and I built the porch on that side, so the room never gets much light during the day.
That's the bathroom door with the blue Restroom sign.......see the dining room to the right.....how dark it is?

So..........I say MOVE the bathroom.  Yup.   I want to do that first.  And I have the perfect place for it.
Eventually, this wall from the doorway on the right, moving left, would be gone.

Originally the kitchen used to be on the other end of the house.
Here.

And then the house was a two family for different generations of the same family. So another kitchen, the one I have now, was created.
The old kitchen had a huge pantry, which I use for fabric storage.
Here.

 And I think it would make a smashing place for the bathroom.  It measures 5' 8" x 9'.

My big concern is  the built ins.   I want to save part of them.  I think that if we tried to move them, they wouldn't make the move well.  Tearing them out would probably include breaking them.

Then, at some point, when I was ready to live there, having dragged DH there by his hair........ok, maybe not his hair..............I would open up the kitchen.
I envision this wall being gone.

And there being an island here, with room to work on one side, and places to sit on the other, and lots of storage underneath.
The island would be right about where that cupboard is.....looking at it from the other side.

This would also really brighten up the dining room, letting light in from the kitchen (that has never known a dreary daytime moment ever)

I do anguish a bit over changing the old house.  But then again, I think that as well as the previous THREE owners since 1790, I am part of its history, too.  And I think that I am only contemplating what others have before me: making the house functional.
Because back when the house was built, there were no bathrooms.  Both bathrooms in this house were added on later.
It would also be better for heat......the dining room is always the coolest room, and this way the heat from the pellet stove would have a better flow there.

Now who wants to move all that fabric up to the loft???


Back to my warp.........I am having too much fun.  Somebody better stop me.

Moving on to March

I spent a quiet few hours at the studio, threading my 8 harness Baby Wolf for point twill dish towels.
It was  guaranteed to require lots of heat to my neck when I was finished. But I knew that.
And it's done, and I am ready to weave more dish towels on it.

I love when February is over.  The anticipation of spring is palpable.  March can be as crappy as it wants to be, but we know that the ground is warming up, the days are getting longer, the birds are singing different songs, and SOON, very soon, being outside will be such joy.

I don't know about you, but I always get antsy in the spring.  This is the time of year I want to move the furniture, tear down a wall or two, add something on somewhere , in general change things up.
I'm not sure if you could call it spring fever, but somehow the time is ripe with possibilities.

Over the winter, I have done a lot of thinking about this year, wanting it to be so much better than last year.  If my head cooperates, I plan on doing some hiking, and a whole lot of kayaking.  I can barely wait.   I have a list of ponds that are calling out to me, and many evenings find me poring over google maps of the Adirondacks.
I am not going to work SEVEN days a week all through the most wonderful weather.  Nor am I going to work SIX.
I am going to really concentrate on putting value and substance into my "days off"..............and I am really going to take those days OFF, and not just talk about them.

I don't know how long this life is for.  We never do.  It's a game of cards, and you just don't ever really know what hand will be dealt to you next.
I found that out the hard way.

I have many times gone over that day hiking with my daughter and two of my grands.  August 11, 2011.
It was a beautiful day, and we hiked for a long time.  When we got down to the lake, I took that fateful last photo, of my grandson in the water.  Then I took my camera off, and set it down, and put my right foot (with Teva on) into the water.
It was over in a nano second.  I don't remember flying through the air, I only remember the pain in my head when I hit, and the sudden realization that this was not good, in fact, this was REALLY bad.
And right then, my life changed direction, forever.
I'm not complaining.  It is what it is.   I could have died from the impact.  I didn't.   I'm here.
I am just making commentary on how quickly, how unexpectedly, and how profoundly, your life can change at any given moment.
We are always hearing advice about living in the now.  Some of us will.   Some of us won't.
And regardless of what we do, time will go racing ahead anyway.

Personally, I am trying to pay attention.
Every.  Day.

 There is no way to tell when the next "nano second" will occur.

And for all of you who have worried about my continuing headache, I got an answer from the doctor.
It's MRI time.
I can't tell you how much I dread getting another MRI.  But I will do it, just to know.

A Valentine Gift for the WINNER.

Evenings in February are pretty uneventful at my house. 
Roy is usually snuggled up in his blankie.  DH in his recliner.
I am usually knitting up a storm, or playing on my laptop.

When I announced my crazy giveaway,  the first comment (by Tyches Minder)
was this:  
God how I love the blog world. Not that long ago, someone left with their mother's treasured, but useful-to-only-a-rare-few hobby materials would be stuck and those things would end up gathering dust in an attic somewhere. Now, with one post on your blog, they will find the perfect home. How great is that?


I agree, it is great.  I have met so many wonderful people via blogging.  It has enriched my life in so many ways.
Just the other day I was over at Chronicles of a Country Girl and I read about her new flash bounce.  And because I always hate taking inside photos with a flash, and the way they turn out, I took Kate's advice, and ordered one straight away.


Roy didn't mind being the subject of my experimentation, and look how great it turned out.  With a FLASH????   And it was so reasonable.  Ay yi yi.
Seriously.
Thanks, Kate.

 You can read all about it HERE   where Kate explains it ALL.

She makes me want to really learn all about my camera. Kind of.
 Actually, I usually just subscribe to dumb luck.  It doesn't always work, but when it does, it works well.
Even upside down.

Sydney says: O.M.G.  
                      You're embarrassing me.

OK, enough fooling around.  We got us a winner here. 
All the hooking wool, the frame, the book, all of it.......now belongs to ................KAM/Kristin!!!!!
So, congratulations Kristin, I just need your address, and I will let you know how much shipping is to get your stuff to you.  You can email me at ragrugs@crazyasaloom.com

I love it when someone wins a giveaway!!
Happy Valentines Day to all my blogger friends. 

Keeping it simple

Remember this??   My back porch when it was all clean and bright, and sunny?

 I got thinking about it, and decided to start a new page on my web site.
 It's called  "PORCH RUGS".
Because if you have a porch, I think you need a rug for it.

I made this one today.  It's #1 of my porch rugs.

L pointed out that someone "might" want to put it inside their house.  Well, it's allowed, I guess.
If you don't have a porch.

This is like the super duper version of my container rug.  I loved weaving it, it was like painting with fabric.

And that was my project for today, keeping it simple, doing what I love, one day at a time.
Amen.

Let's hear it again.

"It seems almost too simple to be true, but acceptance -- accepting things exactly as they are -- can be the key that unlocks the door to happiness. After John 3:16, it may be one of the most quoted passages in literature. It's from Page 449 (first 3 editions, pg. 417 in the 4th edition) of Alcoholics Anonymous or The Big Book as it is widely known:

And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation -- some fact of my life -- unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I accept life completely on life's terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.

For me, serenity began when I learned to distinguish between those things that I could change and those I could not. When I admitted that there were people, places, things, and situations over which I was totally powerless, those things began to lose their power over me. I learned that everyone has the right to make their own mistakes, and learn from them, without my interference, judgement, or assistance! The key to my serenity is acceptance. But "acceptance" does not mean that I have to like it, condone it, or even ignore it. What it does mean is I am powerless to do anything about it... and I have to accept that fact.
Nor does it mean that I have to accept "unacceptable behavior." Today I have choices. I no longer have to accept abuse in any form. I can choose to walk away, even if it means stepping out into the unknown. I no longer have to fear "change" or the unknown. I can merely accept it as part of the journey.
I spent years trying to change things in my life over which I was powerless, but did not know it. I threatened, scolded, manipulated, coerced, pleaded, begged, pouted, bribed and generally tried everything I could to make the situation better -- only watch as things always got progressively worse.
I spent so much time trying to change the things I could not change, it never once occurred to me to simply accept them as they were.
Now when things in my life are not going the way I planned them, or downright bad things happen, I can remind myself that whatever is going on is not happening by accident. There's a reason for it and it is not always meant for me to know what that reason is.
That change in attitude has been the key to happiness for me. I know I am not the only who has found that serenity."

Every now and then, I need to read this again. Slowly.  And then again.

 I need to accept the reality of my life, THIS LIFE that I have been blessed with, and not waste so much time imagining  the life I could have.
It's so easy to peruse all the real estate listings of all the places I would like to live; country farms, camps on pristine lakes, cottages in  little coastal villages.
And I suppose they aren't impossible.
But that's not the point.
This is where I live, and this is my reality.   Life is too short to waste too much of it on what might be.

It's easy, too, to think that we don't need to change anything about ourselves.  I think though, as long as we're alive, we are works in progress, and we can make conscious decisions to be better, smarter, kinder, bigger.

"What I want is what I've not got, what I need is all around me"........Dave Matthews. 

     

Sunshine and a strange giveaway.

We did not get a "blizzard", not by any standards.  Just an old fashion snow storm, and about 10" of snow.
So I had no trouble getting to the studio this morning, and TA DA, my headache is better.....storm has passed, skies are clear.
I am getting the picture.
IMPENDING Storm=low pressure system= screaming headache.

NOW, if that were you, and throughout the spring and summer, you found that your head was on the mend, and then winter came around again, and you went through the same old scenario, WHAT would YOU do????

 The outside cats were loving the blue skies, and beautiful sunshine, kind of like me.

Roy and I took a nice walk, he loves the sun, too.
Down the street, someone else was trying to get some sunshine.

Just not too MUCH sun.

I had a nice morning at the studio, listened to some old CDs, wove on a rug.
Did some cat watching.

And some bird watching.
(We need to wash some windows around here !!!)

 

 

Thank goodness all the "old crows" were feasting next door.

Then I had company.   I thought they were customers, this very nice couple who stopped by.  But no.
They came to see if I would take some stuff off their hands.  Seems the lady's mother passed away and left her with some rug hooking paraphernalia.
And since weaving and hooking seem (to some) to be connected, somehow.......they decided to try me.
Now I just told you about my extensive rug hooking "past life".
I guess they weren't that far off the mark, were they?

So here is what they brought.

I think this lap frame was hand made, but it is so cool.

 There is a rug in progress on it, the pattern is Pearl McGown.

 The previous rug hooker did an incredible job.  The hooking is shaded, and fine.  I would say it is a a #4 or less.

 There is storage room underneath.

The top tips forward and back, and I imagine you can tighten it so it stays where you want it.

 There is a fine hook, and some wool from Dorr Mill.

 There are two small suitcases full of wool, pieces, and already cut.

 There is a three ring binder full of Rug Hooker Magazines.  Old ones.

 And all these pieces of brown paper, they have specific colors of cut wool in them.
Ready to hook.

 

 Like this.

When I first saw the stuff, a little voice in my head said, "You can sell this stuff on Ebay."
Another little voice (yes, there is more than one) said: " You CAN'T be serious."


Because I don't hook anymore.  There isn't enough time in the day.
And I weave.
And when I don't weave, I knit.  For FUN.
So there is NO TIME for rug hooking.
Which brings me to the giveaway.
A spontaneous, my headache is better today, glad to be alive, grateful for all of it, ready to move on.............GIVEAWAY.
So please, if you are a rug hooker, and you will USE this stuff, tell me about it in the comments.
I will draw a name, and all you will have to pay is shipping from 12839 to you.
Drawing on Thursday Feb 14th, Valentine's day!


And I will say,  "Happy Hooking". That's another HH, but one that's definitely more fun.

Saving the world, one plastic bag at a time.

In a blog post a few years back, I talked about my mentor, Chris Gustin.  She has been a weaver for 40 ish years, and she owns Homestead Weaving Studio in Columbus, Indiana.

Did I tell you how I met her??


 In the beginning, I took a 6 week basic weaving course, one night a week. It got me started, but it left a lot to the imagination.  I bought a second hand loom, and went for it, even though I didn't know much.  Unfortunately, there was no one locally who could help me.

I found Chris online.   I know you won't believe that my "shy self" called her, but I did.  I was desperate to get Crazy as a Loom off the ground, and I knew enough to know that I was clueless.
I even ordered a blue jean rug from her, just so I could see what mine should look like.  It is still on my bathroom floor.

From the very beginning, Chris shared her knowledge with me, and her love for weaving, in a generous and totally unselfish way.  She jokes now that she helped to create her own competition, but she is proud of what I've done, and has never, ever been anything but supportive.
 I will always be grateful to her for that, and to this day, when people ask me for help and advice, I give it freely, passing on the gift that was given to me.  Paying it forward.


Thank you, Chris, for everything, but most of all thank you for your continuing friendship since that first phone call.

Just recently, Chris has taken her generosity a step further, which is why I love her.

Chris has always campaigned against plastic bags, and has been weaving them into beautiful rugs for a long time.  She has taken it a step further now, helping to reduce the impact of plastic bags on the wildlife in KENYA.

Yes, I said KENYA.

This is Chris with her newest weaving student.
 James Nampushi, a Maasai warrior from a small village in Kenya.
 

Read her story HERE:  http://www.homesteadweaver.com/kenya_weaving_project.htm
because she tells it best, and because she has awesome pictures of the whole process.
It is amazing.
She is amazing.
I want you to meet her.

You will never feel the same about recycling your plastic bags.  And you will see how I have been inspired in my passion for Crazy as a Loom.

Let's talk about happy times

Back before I was a weaver, I was a hooker.
A rug hooker.
You know what I meant.
I was INTO it.
Hard to believe, right?
I was so into it, that I made a LOT of rugs.
Dyed my own wool, cut my own strips, drew my own patterns, for the most part.

 This is one of my favorites. I made it for my youngest, Morgan.  Every picture means something to her.  And there's my hand, hooking, on the right.

When she was about 5, she had an outfit, with the heels and all, see it in purple?
And she loved to lie on the deck in the sun.
And there she is with her sisters in front of Stonehenge.

This one was from a picture I saw in a magazine.  With some ad libs.  This picture was taken when the rug was on display at the Round Barn in Vermont.  I was a member of the guild over there at the time.
Seems like another lifetime.

I am only showing you pictures of the ones I liked.  There were more.  I was a busy girl.
All this and two jobs.
I look back and call it insanity.


 For awhile, I was also into making "dummy boards".
This is a Santa dummy board I made, and sold.

This is one of the first ones I ever made, and I did it because it matched the wallpaper boarder I had up in my living room.....if you look closely, you can see Miss Liberty's skirt waltzing around the room.

My patriotic period, I guess.

This was my first "real" big project.   I sold it to the lady on the right, Patti Yoder.  She died several years ago, but in her lifetime, she was a rug hooker extraordinaire, and several of her rugs are featured in the Rug Hooking yearly books.
The lady behind the rug was Jean Evans, the sweetest lady and someone who encouraged my rug hooking talents in her little studio.
That's me, with longer hair, and a butt ugly sweater that I wore ALL the time.  I must have liked it.

 

 Here's a close up, but don't look too close.  It was taken in two shots, cut and taped together.........give me a break though, it was taken with FILM.
You remember that, right?

This next one was copied from a greeting card, that I still have by the way.  I loved it, so I hooked a rug just like it.
My favorite part is the shadow of the person holding the kite.

This rug, the pineapple rug, was made from an age old pattern.
The rug resides under my coffee table, still.
It has been through several dogs, and though it is a bit faded, it has held up incredibly well.

The old pot belly stove was in my barn at my house in the country.

I drew the sunflower, and I call this my Van Gogh period, tongue in cheek.

I had an old book of antiques, and in it there was this picture of an old weather vane.  I was quite taken with it, so I dyed some wool, and here it is.
It is the one rug I regretted selling when it was gone.

I was such an avid hooker.........ooh, that sounds funny, doesn't it?   that I ended up with
serious carpal tunnel problems both wrists.
So I had surgery on them both, and reconsidered my obsession with it.
It wasn't long after that when I learned to weave, and you know how THAT turned out.
Right?

I love that saying that I saw on another blog, and put on my sidebar. 


"You will never untangle the circumstances that brought you to this moment."

The only thing you can do, is occasionally drag out the photos, and ponder it all.
But today, this day, is all we really have. 
Everything in this post, is a part of who I am today, but none of it belongs to me anymore.
It only lives on in photographs.

Last night, I dreamt that I went to see a loom.  It was a marvelous loom, and really large.  I sat down to try it out, and was amazed to find that every time I stepped on a treadle, and threw the shuttle, I created this lovely music.  At first, I wasn't sure where it came from, but when I stopped weaving, the music stopped, and when I started up again, the music continued and got louder and more beautiful.

I guess that says it all, pretty much, don't you?