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An 'itch' to weave

I don't know what causes these sudden "must do!"'s in life - and they can apply to anything: call a friend,  check out a new restaurant,  arrange the cupboard under the sink,  make a sudden turn down an unexplored street, etc! - but they are like an itch that must be scratched and, they either take priority or, keep 'nudging' while other things are done.  Today such was the case with this weaving.  Activity ceased on it many weeks ago; normally, once the loom is warped -  I weave, consistently, if not continually, until the piece is completed.

I do recall what caused the 'pause' :  I had planned to take it to an event and finish it there : did not go to the event.   Not sure why it stalled for this long;  not sure why the 'itch' today.  But there it was.  And I 'itched' it.

Getting ready.  Main event.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Accessories to the right;  yarn and thrums and boat shuttle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Necessities to the left.  Windows open wide;  sounds of outdoors - passersby, distant traffic, near by traffic, a singing robin.  Wind and tree- bounced sun.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After quite a speedy considering time a yarn was chosen and the bobbin filled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gearing up.  After such a length of time between weaving there is a period of adjustment, of getting familiar with the yarn and the boat and the sheds and the warp and the weft.  Of finding a rhythm. Of leaning into the harness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then letting go and allowing the process to lead and admiring what happens.  I quite like how the slopes took shape and, for some reason, was reminded  of a person skilled with cards fanning them out in their hand. Time for a bit of texture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Holey knees in a pair of Super hero pyjamas resulted in turning them into shorty pj's by cutting off the parts below the holes.  I wanted to weave 'grandson'  into the piece  so cut a length of cloth strips from the cut off fabric.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Spider Man strips were introduced by hand;  the rest of the bobbin yarn was woven straight with an inclusion of baubles of lengths cut from a stretchy copper-coloured fabric that did not work as yarn for a scarf project;  the weft became a bit exuberant after meeting the baubles.  Then the bobbin ran out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now the rest of the copper was used as weft, hand shuttled into the sheds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A rather prolonged perusal of the yarn basket resulted in the choice of a soft linen/silk yarn in a lilac colour.  It wanted to be more substantial than single strand so a center pull ball was formed by wrapping around thumb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now the yarn can be drawn from the outside and the inside of the ball and wound around the bobbin to give a double fibre.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lilac made a fairly straight run, partly because, coming close to the end of the warp - or at least close enough to feel the change of ease of the sheds - a smooth 'possible' finish seemed a good idea.

But, then again, I felt an observer.  But, I did want a break. So I stopped and stepped out from the harness of the backstrap loom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The weaving got unrolled and hung between the posts on the chesterfield.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it finished?  My opinion is that a good idea would be another few inches using the same yarn as the warp.  But not now.  And the loom may have something else in mind.

 

Simple homemade yogurt

This is the simplest way I know of making yogurt.  

Catching the wind

Plastic placemats ....  corrugated paper .....  upholstery fabric ....  are being considered:  I am wanting to make some pinwheels again.

And I am wondering if more than four mills would work.

Teeny tiny tutorial : watermelon lollies

I once  owned a pineapple corer  that was a length of stainless steel tube with a wooden dowel that would fit inside it.  I never got around to using it  (it looked pretty at a garage sale;  brand new, actually ... so I bought it; never thought to ask the seller is she had actually used it) but I believe you pushed the stainless steel tube into the pineapple and then removed the resultant core with the dowel.  

Anyway this item popped to mind for some reason along with "watermelon" and I got to wondering what would happen if I took .....

... a watermelon,  length of stainless steel tubing,  hammered into the watermelon ..... on an angle

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

or straight down ....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ... and then used a  dowel to push the cut pieces out ....

Well, I imagined having neat watermelon lollies,  the peel as the handle,  the fruit fun to eat.  I imagined doing the same thing with honeydew .... cantaloupe ....  

Sigh.  Back to the drawing board. 

 

 

 

 

At least the remains of this experiment are edible.

 Other failures involving food have, in the past, been buried  in the garden. 

With the fizzling of that tutorial maybe a bit of face can be saved by sharing the fact that cassia bark (aka cinnamon) sticks ....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

... when put in a thermos cup of tea,  flavour the tea very nicely and the stick unrolls.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What I find equally thrilling is that it rolls up on itself again as it dries.  This is the third time with this stick and I am wondering if it will just contiue,  open/shut,  open/shut etc.

Ten sites or less ... search engine express lane ..... ?????

I have had this wonderful computer table for many years;  I do not recall where I got it;  some garage sale.

Today, while adapting it to a smaller keyboard,  I noticed some features of adjustment and wondered what they were. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This proud-as-punch label got me googling.

But, alas, I lack the knowledge or the skills to come up with four or six words to express the question "Who made this Forminco computer table and when?" to get an express lane answer.

Again .... Happy trails, cowboy

I was reminded about this article and wondered if I had blogged it before and I had!  Perhaps what tweaked the memory was seeing a box of  horses  put on a table at a garage sale just as a young girl was approaching and watching her reaction.  She took them out, one by one, and oogled them all. I was horse crazy at her age.  A horse was part of the equipment necessary for being a cowgirl.  

Wearing the chair

The ongoing quest for the perfect chair,  recent experience with a memory foam mattress,  strolling through the fibre stash ... led to a 3 a.m. think time considering how to use the collection of cashmere sweaters as raw material to make a 'perfect chair'.

Thinking about what might be used to turn the sweaters (all fibre archeological treasures discovered on garage sale/thrift store/church sale  etc. digs) into 'clay' with which I could  'scupt'  a chair; how to keep or make the mass of them firm enough to work with my hands into the shape of a chair yet retain the integrity of the cashmere, the sweater, the repurposing,  the soft, cradling fibre .... prompted the idea of a chair that was like a garment.  Yes!!!

So I put the 'sculpted sweaters' on a shelf in my mind and let the idea of chair as clothing evolve.

The essence of the process went something like this: (there were many tangents)  what to use as the material ... an energy source .... our own field of energy .... supplanted? ...  need to 'sculpt' it .... visualize how it would look;  expand  on this to tactilization and how it would feel .... having it 'in place' ....  match vibration of chair .... giving it a "Sit" command and have it provide appropriate seating for the situation .... ergonomic .....  adjusting to internal and external  sensors of posture,  mood, temperature, environment, ? ...  could adapt to sleep position .... total comfort.

It would be the perfect chair, the only one we would ever need, in our home,  on a plane,  at the office,  anywhere.

They used to say  "if you can think it, it can happen".  This seems to have been uptechnologized to "if you can think it, it is likely already happening."

So, do I wait for it and find another use for all those cashmere sweaters?

Alyssum!

At first, when I saw the flowers on the ground outside  Stampers in Quadra Village, I thought someone had ripped them out of the planter box and thrown them down.

Then I noticed they were growing between the paving bricks.  They must have  seeded themselves. 

What a delight - both the fact of the beauty and that they 'volunteered'.  And, I suppose, that no one 'weeded' them away.

 

 

Tie wire twister

Bob at the church thrift shop explained that this interesting-looking tool was used in working with cement to tighten or adjust the wires.  He did not know what it was called.

Good ol' Google took "tool" and "wire" and "twist" and came up with many images and that led to what it is called and how it works here.

Having knit with wire and  considering it 'fibre', I got to wondering how this tool would work with wool and cord and clothesline rope and ripped cloth etc.

As soon as I got it home I took some cotton string, tied it into a circle,  hooked it on a doorknob.  stretched it out and hooked the end to this tool and gave it a twirl.  Wow!  It twisted easily and  efficiently.  And I had an almost instant (compared to hand and finger twisting)  four-ply cord. 

It is fun to use.  You hold the wooden handle and make circular wrist motions which twirls the hook.

One dollar.  People keep suggesting I mention what I paid for these finds. 

 

Mt. Tolmie ; Victoria BC

Even though I drive by it at least twice a week,  I have likely only been on top of Mt. Tolmie maybe two dozen times in twenty years.  

For some reason I felt like doing that yesterday - and wondered why I haven't done it more often.

It can be accessed up Mayfair from Richmond or Cedar Hill X Road;  I have always gone up Mayfair from Richmond and down Mayfair to Cedar Hill X.

This is looking north and that is Mt. Doug on the edge of Victoria.  Mt. Tolmie isn't downtown but it is in the city.

 

East.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

South.  Those snow-covered Olympic Mts. blow frosty air our way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

West.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 These photos are only a glimpse.