Weaving Goals

But first, my sister reminds me that our niece, Lauren, is turning 10, not 11 (which is true of Len's niece as well). I decided to get her 3 Ramona books and Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great (I loved all of these when I was her age, and older).

Weaving. I've had a warp sitting on my loom waiting to be threaded for close to a year. I'm kind of surprised the cats haven't taken care of it (by "taken care of", I mean "ruined"). I don't know what the issue is, it isn't that I dislike weaving, I just don't seem to make time for it. Part of the issue is that I'm not that good at it, which is a dumb excuse, because I didn't used to be good at knitting but I kept at it until I got good at it, or at least not afraid to screw up.

So. Now that the garden and canning are pretty much done, I've decided to make the time. Not everyday mind you, just on weekend mornings while listening to the radio, which bores Len to tears. This will serve two completely different purposes (or it should): give me much needed regular practice on the loom and give me some much needed time to myself. I love Len dearly, but we do spend a little too much time together. Plus my job (which I also love) involves being with people most of the day. I need time alone*.

My other weaving goal. You know those Indian bedspreads/wall coverings every hippy-dippy college student since 1967 has? That's my summer bedspread (magenta with elephants), which I've had since I was, you guessed it, a college student. We need something a little more...grown up. I considered knitting one, but I don't even like knitting baby blankets, so a queen size bedspread would probably put me in the loony bin. I also considered crocheting one. But then I remembered something. I have a loom and a boatload of 20/2 unmercerized cotton, just waiting to be dyed and made into something pretty and useful. If I'm smart, I will stick with a simple Summer and Winter, if I am less so, Lee's Surrender (I am kind of an idiot, so I wouldn't put it past me).

*One of the things I find funny, and kind of sweet, is that to Len, being "alone" means being with me. To me, being alone means no other humans. I am, maybe, not so sweet.