Crazy as a Loom

Sunday, November 27, 2016

A bit more

At the top of the stairs, I hung a spinning wheel, that I found in the barn, when I bought the house.

The front bedroom is on the road side of the house, and the wallpaper is the closest one I could find to replicate the paper that was falling off.

No beds in here, this is the "rug room", and home to my all time fave rug loom, the Union Custom.

It's a bit of a mess.  We do a lot of work in here.  Well, mostly Lois does.

I wove 7 rugs here this past week, one a day.

The "blue" room is the guest room.

This dressing table was here in the house when I came.

The door over the bed used to be the back door out of the kitchen to the old back porch.
I loved the shabby chic look of it.  The other side is just white.

Ever since Miss Puss was diagnosed with diabetes, she has mellowed.  You never would have seen her on the couch with Roy.  But now, it's not a big deal apparently.

I try not to think about how much her insulin and syringes cost me, but honestly, when I see her like this next to me every evening, so relaxed and happy, I know that it's money well spent.
My sweet girl.

I would have shown you the other bedrooms, but to be honest, they could use some straightening up.

Friday, November 25, 2016

My world.

With the state of the nation, and the upheaval in the world,  I have to admit to loving my home more than ever.
I have created, over the years since I bought this old house, a place that I love beyond measure.

This morning,  with the early light  making the house glow, I wandered around a bit, taking pictures.

My new sewing machine, a purchase I made after weaving off 112 yards of black warp.
This was my gift to myself.

Sirius radio in the corner, playing my fave channel, #66, Watercolors, a jazz channel.

My sewing room, a place to play.

My AVL,  the loom I love the best.

My view, first thing.

My late Aunt Stell's old hall tree.

My study in black and white, the Schacht in the foreground.

 There is no place I would rather be than right here.
I can't believe that just a couple of years ago, I had 17 looms.

Now I realize, with only FOUR looms, that I am happier with less.  I am more focused, and less stressed.
It's a tough lesson to learn, that it's not all about the money, that it can't be, if you really want to be fulfilled with what you do.

  Giza cotton warp, reeled silk weft.

Not sure what it will be....I might make some clothing out of it.

Giza cotton and hand dyed tencel baby wrap, on its way to London soon.

 It's been rainy and gray here in northeast New York,  but it's all good here at Crazy as a Loom.

Thursday, November 17, 2016

My day

Thank you for all the comments on my last post.  I know it's a difficult  subject.  I appreciate all your opinions, and I respect them.
I don't usually do politics on my blog, and won't do it often.  This seemed to be an exception, something I needed to get off my chest, and then get back to my life.

Let's hope for the best, and pray that our country can come together somehow.

I have had a hand woven rag stair runner on my stairs for about 10 years.  Not only was it getting a little ratty, but it was slipping and stretching and sliding, and I decided it was dangerous for us old folks.
So here's the new one,  the black rods and finials haven't gone back on yet, but it's soft on the feet, and quiet.
I like it.

I bought this quilt top below from a lady who posted it on FB.....for $20.
It was hand stitched by her grandmother.

It is without perfect condition.
I'm going to back it, and quilt it.
I don't understand selling it, not at all.  I wish I had something like this from MY grandmother, but I 
guess I'll just have to treasure this one.

This is the view out my kitchen window, and the house next door.  No one lives there, the lady who did is in the nursing home.
Every time I look over there, I think of her having to leave the home she spent probably the majority of her life in.

 Today is the first day of my guild's show.  I was there at 8am, setting up.

I got my möbius shawls all settled on my clothes rack, only to find a while later that the powers that be had moved them all over the room, and confiscated my rack.

 Then while I was unwrapping Mrs. Olsen (my dress form lady), who is modeling my cotton/bamboo  
baby wrap, a lady walking by made a loud, derogatory "ewwwwww".   I turned to her, and she said, ""I hate that baby."

Speechless.  That's what I was.

Time to go home, no matter what the clock says.

Hello, Stella,  I'm glad to meet you.
(Stella Artois, for those of you who don't's very good)

Sometimes, I just want to stay home, make soup, bread, weave, and enjoy the quiet.


Monday, November 14, 2016

My opinion.

Alert:  Photos are some my daughter took of mushrooms in her yard, and I love them.
Plus I have no photos that reflect my subject matter today.

OK, he won the election.   He's going to be the President of this country.
To say that I am appalled doesn't really cover it.
It's truly almost inconceivable to me.
And it's not so much that people didn't want HER.  I kind of understand that.  She did have a lot of baggage.
I really loved Bernie.

My problem lies here:  how did people gloss over, jump over, totally ignore his racism, his hatefulness, his misogyny, his lack of character, to decide that he would make a good president???
Perfectly sane, good people.  Because I believe they are.  They did some kind of mental gymnastics, to make it work.  For their party?  For what?

That's where I'm lost.

I grew up in the 60's, and too well I remember how it was.  How we never want it to be again.

It wasn't even that he was educated, or brilliant, or had a PLAN.
None of the above.

Redeeming qualities?  Rich?  Famous?  Tells it like it is??  REALLY??  If that's how "it is" to those folks who bought it, then I am sorry.  Sorry for their lack of insight.

But here we are, and this is what we have.  I truly believe that  the people that supported him are going to be disappointed, maybe not as disappointed as the rest of us, but disappointed just the same.
I fear for our country, I abhor the violence and the division that is bound to happen.
For all the rhetoric, we AREN'T going to work together, because our core values are so different.

I admit that I got myself in an awful state over this election.   I tried to understand how he could be  acceptable to anyone.
Facebook drove me crazy.  I was sickened and  a little obsessed.   I unfollowed several acquaintances, so I wouldn't have to see their continual onslaught.

Then one day, after the election results were known, I posted an encouraging meme about what we have to do now, to get over it.
A long time friend, and converted Christian right, commented: "Enough already."

So just for curiosity's sake,  I went over to her page, since I unfollowed her some time ago.  I wanted to see if perhaps, she was taking the high road, and not posting political stuff, hence her admonition to me.
But NO, not the case.  She was posting pictures of her 'adorable, deplorable, Trump necklace, plus much more.
OK, I admit it.  I lost it.
I unfriended her immediately.

I then questioned my action, but came up with this.

I never see her.  She drives by my house often, she never stops.
She never calls me.
I've invited her for lunch many times, but she is too busy.

We used to be great friends, many years ago.
Times have changed.  We have changed.  We have lost our connection.
And she thinks it okay to dismiss my pain on my page, while she still gloats over on hers.

So this election has done one thing for me. It has made me very aware that FB is my distraction, when I want it to be, and it's a way of keeping in touch with people who I do have a connection with, who do call me, who do email me, or message me, or in some way are part of my life.
There  are  people on my FB friend list that  I have not actually met, like some of my baby wrap or blogger friends, but we have a connection none the less.
And I have decided that anyone who posts things that I find offensive, is gone.  Period.
It's my choice, and I am not going to be aggravated on a daily basis.  The end.  Differing opinions are fine, as long as they are delivered respectfully.

I know that my life here on earth is limited, more so than ever at my age, and I know also that I can not change any of what is happening globally.

I can only live my best life, be my kindest self, my most generous, and loving self.

And first off, that means loving myself.

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Back so soon?

I can't believe that October is favorite month of went by so quickly, and now I have to wait another whole year for it again.
November.....well, you know....sometimes it can be gray and cold and grim.
We'll see.
Yesterday I decided to take a wee break from weaving.  I'm not sure how I got onto it, but I decided to try my hand at free motion quilting.
I watched a few You Tube videos.   I searched and found a foot that came with my Bernina sewing machine, that would work.
I figured out how to drop the feed dogs.
And I started.
Can I just tell you that it is MUCH harder than it looks.
Getting your feet to manage the speed, and your hands to match that speed.....well, it ain't easy.

While I was dreaming of bigger and better equipment to do it on, getting 100 steps ahead of myself, as usual, I realized that this was not going to be a venture of mine, no matter how appealing it might be.
And it is very addictive, difficult, but addictive.

Because after about an hour, my NECK, my fused, finicky, moody neck, began to talk to me.
It said some pretty nasty things.  I had to listen.

So back to the loom, with an occasional foray to make an occasional potholder, or quilt square.  That's a more reasonable scenario.   For me.

It's amazing, how I have managed to adapt.  I never imagined that I could.  But I find, these last four years, since my first surgery, that I have had to go with the flow, even if sometimes I hated it.  I had to change the perception of myself that I had.  That "can do" everything me.  It sounds depressing, and sad, but to be honest, when I let that perception go, I found a new me, one that I think I like even better.
This revised version of me  is more thoughtful, more reflective.  She has learned how to take breaks, how to be better to herself.
Still busy, oh yes, but in a kinder way.
Reminding me of advice an old weaver once gave me, "Shake it up.  Change what you are doing.  Don't do the same thing all day long.  Your body will love you for it."
So I weave some.   Then I do chicken duty.
I organize a little.
I weave some more.
I bake, then I sit and study something.
I weave some more.
Sometimes I kick back for 30 min.  A power rest.

Then I sew a little.
I plan projects.
I play on my laptop.
I weave a little more.
I go to the store.

You get the drift.  Busy, yes, all the time.  But not chained to the loom for production.  I just recently did that to myself, committed to a 100 yards of weaving.   I don't know why.....I guess I have to be vigilant of the "old me" sticking her nose in.
I finished it, but by the time I did, I hated it.  I vowed right then and there that I would be much more careful.   I would put solid boundaries on how much weaving I took on.

This is my life.
This is my retirement life.
I need to do just what I want.

I read a friend's FB post recently, about her venture into production weaving, and how happy she was to be able to do it.
And I smiled.
Because I am very happy, thrilled  in fact, to say no no no no to production weaving.  I have had enough.  I want to weave at a pace that makes me content, not frenzied.
My little 100 yard slip really convinced me of that.

I look ahead, and think of the time I might have left ahead.  No one knows.   We just hope for the best.  But however much time it is, I want to do it well, spend it well,  do meaningful things.   Meaningful to me, means slowing down enough to savor them.

Life is short, my friends.
Savor it.

Welcome to my world.

Because every thread counts

Because every thread counts