Fiber management

I now own a loom. Not one big as a pantry, like you'd see at Colonial Williamsburg. Not even a floor loom like you'd see in a college art department. Just a tabletop loom, with a weaving width of 15 inches. Bigger than a toy, it has all the working parts of larger looms — warp beam, fabric beam, beater, reed. harnesses, heddles. The central frame that holds the harnesses (four of them) is called a castle, a term which is easy to remember because of the way it stands above all the activity of the moving parts below. 

It's all very pretty; the wood is beautiful. I bought it secondhand from someone whose deceased wife was a weaver.  I kinda know what to do with it. I took a two-day class last fall and made a small sample of plain weave, rib and twill on this type of loom. There are more classes in my future. I've bought the book that teachers recommend and yesterday morning reviewed the section on warping the loom, step one in any project. 

Warping means putting on the thread or yarn that runs lengthwise in the cloth. It's a process where a beginner relies on the experience of teachers, not because the basic concept is complicated, but because you're working with maybe 240 pieces of yarn, each one 4-6 feet long. You can imagine what a sorry mess you'd have on your hands without a method for measuring and moving, anchoring and finally threading each end through the slots of the reed and the holes in the heddles. You do all of this with care and thoughtfulness, checking frequently for twists and mis-counting. Mistakes can be fixed, but it's easier not to have to.  

I am itching to put a warp on my loom, but unsure if I any of the yarns I already have will make a good first project. Unfortunately I am never averse to ordering more yarn, especially if that's what's needed to assure a successful project. I shopped online last night at three large yarn and weaving suppliers and ended up completely frustrated. I found a beautiful cherry-red yarn at my favorite vendor's site, but the warping pegs I wanted to buy were out of stock. The vendor with two kinds of warping pegs to choose from, both in stock, did not have yarn that inspired me. And when I found both yarn and pegs at the third vendor's site, I could not place the order because I already had an account that I couldn't log into. 

After a brief respite on Twitter, I picked up my knitting.

I spent a couple hours yesterday afternoon on another fiber project: reclaiming yarn from moths and mothballs. Last fall I was gifted with several tubs full of yarn left after a house sale. Some of it -- 29 balls of Koigu (nice stuff) -- smells nauseatingly of mothballs. I spent a couple hours unwinding the balls back into skeins that I could hang in the sun. Brought them in overnight, thinking the smell was gone. Stuck my nose in them this morning -- they're back out on the patio. Tomorrow, maybe, they'll get a soaking in vinegar and more sun.

Deliberate tasks, determined reclaiming of old stuff. Two days into retirement and I remind me of my grandmother. And yes, she'll laugh and approve when I finally end up tossing that yarn in the garbage. I'll feel younger and more extravagant when the new yarn -- yes, the website worked for me today -- arrives in the mail later this week.