a simple yarn

Murphy’s Law…not something I want to be too well acquainted with but….I have to say, it makes for an interesting 100th post.

Warning:  Etymological Diversion Ahead:
Although I’m a resident of Ireland, Ireland has little to do with it. Murphy’s Law (’If anything can go wrong, it will’) was born at Edwards Air Force Base in 1949 at North Base. It was named after Capt. Edward A. Murphy, an engineer working on Air Force Project MX981, (a project) designed to see how much sudden deceleration a person can stand in a crash. One day, after finding that a transducer was wired wrong, he cursed the technician responsible and said, ‘If there is any way to do it wrong, he’ll find it.’ The contractor’s project manager kept a list of “laws” and added this one, which he called Murphy’s Law.
-excerpted from The Desert Wings, March 3, 1978

I may have to add a ‘law’ to the list which says, ‘If members of the Weaver’s Guild are coming to your house, then the warp you are currently putting on your loom will go horribly wrong.’

So the Irish Guild of Weavers, Spinners and Dyers are coming to my house for a meeting on Saturday. First time. They’ve never seen a Kessenich loom and so will be quite interested, I think, to look at mine. Nothing on the loom at present. How boring. Need to warp it up anyway for aforementioned festive holiday work. So, killing the proverbial two birds with the one stone, I began to dress the loom today.

Well, there was no ‘ho-ho-ho’-ing in my house this afternoon. And Murphy, along with his whole list of laws, took up residence, feeling quite at home.

It started with this innocent cone of wool. Got it at Avoca’s annual leftovers sale. Avoca’s the oldest continuous handweaving company in Ireland, since, I don’t know, late 1600s maybe? Anyway, you’d think that by the 21st century, they’d have made it a habit to select good warp threads. Not necessarily so.

I should have known something was amiss after winding the first half of the warp. In taking it off the warping board and making the chain-to-prevent-total-chaos, the threads, as if they were trying to make a prison break, began thwoinging every which way. I should have turned back at that very moment, but whether it was ignorance or arrogance, I kept going.

Well, I got it on the back and lease sticks. Would the chain come easily undone? Nope. Would the threads slide easily through the lease sticks? Nope. Did I have to untie and retie the cross no less that three times? Yep. Did the previous attempt at a thready-prison-break work? Yep. Did the remaining threads begin fraying, pilling and balling? You bet.

Thwoing-my word for the day.

The more I worked, the worse it became. At one point I subcontracted for extra hands with Husband-Will and Daughter-Kate standing patiently while I finger-combed the mounting mess. Have you ever taken a comb through dredlocks?

We wound until we could go no further. Cut my losses. Salvaged what I could. And at my feet lay a pile of lifeless thread. Crappity-doo-dah.

What’s left on the loom looks fairly respectable, if you don’t look too closely. But I know there are perilous times ahead…I’m sure they’re still figurin’ to break free when I’m not lookin’.

The one nice moment of the day lay in these beauties. Nice little clamps from B&Q. For being such mini things, they have amazing strength to clamp my warping boards to the kitchen table and to likewise secure my raddle to the back beam. Just wish they could have been strong enough to keep my threads in check…

So, for my troubles, Eternally-Thoughtful-Daughter-Kate made me a cup of tea. And here’s to an interesting 100th tale.