a little bit of this

a little bit of that

Beryl noticed the problem first:

1. her person was ready to wind a big warp

and

2. there were no materials with which to weave it

Okay, there was enough leftover package twine for a couple of inches of edging.

Also a handkerchief-sized piece of yellow sheet.¹

But once those were used up there was not enough of anything to add up to the textured white(ish) floor covering² I was imagining.

(Beryl was most sympathetic and didn’t say I told you so).

Shopping was a possibility of course, and the next time I had some internet I did a cursory search to see if anything caught my fancy.³

But I seem to have grown allergic to acquiring anything new—even an internet connection of my own—so buying stuff was out for now.⁴

Back home we contemplated the sheet situation. The ones on my bed might work! But no. They are still perfectly usable.⁵ Plus they’re the wrong color and value for what I have in mind.

What about linen towels I’ve woven, worn to shreds, mended, and worn through again?

Or that bag of ancient family napkins and hankies (beautifully made long ago by someone, and now too pretty to discard and too fragile to use as is)?⁶

What about both?

How would it feel to cut them up?

Maybe they’d be appalled—have their feelings hurt. Maybe they wouldn’t get along.

Or maybe after years of sitting unused in my grandmother’s tiny orange suitcase crammed into the corner of a closet, or of drying my butt, they’d think it was exciting.

Nothing to do but ask.

And to my delight, most—from lace-edge wisps of cloth to wine- stained placemats—

—said yes!

So off we went.

And here we are—tucking the traces of hundred year old dinner parties and last century’s sneezes into hardware store package twine—

—adding “stains” of my own to hankies that were altogether too white⁷—

—and generally having a high old time.

Because for all their staid appearance, I’m finding them a wild bunch.⁸

How easy it is to forget that personality and agency are intrinsic to textiles of all sorts.

What a blast it is to be reminded.

And what luck it is to be a textile vagabond—

—smack dab in the middle of a jaunt—

—to who knows where.⁹

1. The sheet I used in the rug-turned-magic carpet I finished a couple of weeks ago.

2. Delicious though it is as the weather grows warm, the super smooth concrete floor of my new house is definitely enhanced by the odd soft soft spot to stand on— and what could be yummier for bare toes than unexpected juxtaposition of texture.?

Which reminds me— Caroline Ross just wrote a wonderful post on her Substack Uncivil Savant, about haptic nourishment (or it’s opposite, the haptical malnourishment so many of us experience these days), and she proposes the idea of choosing a day, making a list of everything she touches, and putting each thing in a different category (she has the categories laid out at the end of the post and they are fascinating in themselves, sparking much delicious thought). Makes me want to give it a try. You?

3. The Koehler tapestry weft from Harrisville weft does look mighty appealing though…

4. It seems that the decisions fatigue of buying a house and moving has made the mere idea of looking, choosing, shopping, shipping, telephoning, making accounts, entering cc#s, signing things—or, to be honest, committing to much of anything beyond what I’m doing right now, even things that sound great—almost impossible. At least for the time being. And though I’m sure I’ll get “proper” internet eventually, not having it at the house beyond the bare minimum I get through my phone leaves a lot more band width (teehee) for books, yarn, food, dog fun, walks and imagination, if less for zoom calls and uploading videos…

5. And though I relish sleeping under my hand spun blankets in fall, winter and spring, a crisp linen sheet is simply delicious in the summer.

6. All kinds of initials on them, including those of my grandmother, my great grandmother, and my grandmother’s second husband’s first wife.

7. Ah, the bliss of black tea (or red tea as it’s known in China) It really does impart a lovely pinkish tinge. Not substantive to be sure, but that’s not really an issue with this project, at least for me.

8. Several times I imagine future Sarah wishing that present Sarah was being a little more orderly—that I’d lined up all my balls of cloth strips by value and woven them sequentially as ten-years-ago Sarah would undoubtedly have done (here’s an in-depth blog post I wrote in 2016 called The Value of Value). But ten years ago Sarah hadn’t yet begun her cellulosic adventures (lucky girl, to have all that ahead of her), and that kind of order is definitely not the nature of my life or psyche at this moment(see footnote #4). I mean long ago Sarah would have had all her materials on hand already (spun, dyed, weighed, measured etc). And I’m going to run out of hankies and napkins really soon.

9. And speaking of creative adventures I can’t wait to go on that are compelling, creatively invigorating and also relaxing without pressure or expectation):

Anna Brones’ Isles of Curiosity and Wonder midsummer creative retreat will be back for another edition this year. 5 days all on an imaginary island, starts June 20th and is one of the seasonal perks for paid subscribers. If you’ve been debating on getting a paid subscription now is a good time to do so. And yes there’s Isles of Curiosity and Wonder merch.