Tuesday, January 13, 2026

Keep Going

A wooden pin loom with a nearly complete woven square made of autumnal colored yarn
It's Tuesday evening around bedtime, and I'm weaving on my 7" square pin loom. To be honest, I've been working on it off and on all day, which means I still have no idea how long it takes me to weave a square.

But I'm finding so much joy in small and modular projects these days. There's the ever-present box of crocheted squares, a 5¼" square cross stitch kit, and a couple mini skeins of handspun (one of which is on the pin loom right now). 

Next up is a 3D printed 4" pin loom of the three-pin variety, though it's clearly possible to do multi-layer weaving on an evenly spaced pin loom as well. I bought this 7" loom intending to do bias weaving, but I've really become smitten with the multi-layer technique. And yes, there's still an unfinished 18" square in the garage. I'm going to make some fun pillow covers with it. 

I just wanted to pop in tonight and say hello!

I'm ever reminding myself that I can just come here and do that.

So hello, and I hope you're well. I hope you're making. I hope you're hopeful.  

I hope you keep going.
 

Sunday, September 21, 2025

The Wealth of Slowing Down

Clarity is an odd and fleeting thing.

It’s the reason I often go months without posting. I have that spark of clarity, that five minutes of knowing exactly what I want to say, and if I don’t—or worse, can’t—take action in those precious moments, it’s gone. It comes when I’m driving, when I’m working, and in the middle of the night.

It stays long enough to leave an impression I can move forward with, but it doesn’t always leave its words. So this time I tried to write it down for later, and now it’s later.

What if we slow down?

Three skeins of handspun yarn in autumn colors (orange, yellow, burgundy, deep blue)
We’re makers. We make. It’s what we do. But what if we didn’t feel like we had to constantly be finishing things and starting new ones? What if savoring a project for six months, or even a year, wasn’t something we looked at with judgment and guilt? We keep having these conversations about how the making, learning, enjoyment, etc. are the reasons we do this, but are we listening to our own advice?

For most of this year, I've been on a mission to "finish all the things," and I still am, but I noticed a theme. In the spring and summer, I kept making plans to sprint through finishing WIPs, and then when the deadline came I'd kick myself for not getting it all done. Guess what? That feels bad, and it doesn't make me want to work on the projects. I'm still whittling down my projects, but now I'm looking at it from a different perspective.

I'll work on what I feel called to, because this season of my life is about savoring the process. Earlier this year, for weeks, all I wanted to do was spin. Anything else I picked up wasn't doing it for me, and forcing myself to work on other projects didn't result in any kind of joy. When the spinning flap was over, it was replaced by weaving for several weeks. Now, I haven't touched the pink scarf on the big loom for a month, and all I've wanted to do lately is crochet squares and spin. 

It.
    All.
        Comes.
                Back. 

(close up) Three skeins of handspun yarn in autumn colors (orange, yellow, burgundy, deep blue)Here's the thing. I'm not making anything for anyone else, so why should I create meaningless deadlines? I craft because I enjoy the process. I write because I enjoy writing and sharing my thoughts, so why don't I place my focus where I want to spend my time? That's exactly what I intend to do from here. I'm not in a hurry about anything, and that's incredibly freeing.

I started out this year talking about writing and making, and then a temporary lapse in employment brought me back to streaming in May. While I don't regret coming back to Twitch, and I had a great time being in front of the camera again this summer, I do regret that I wasn't honest with myself or my audience about how unsustainable streaming would be once I went back to working full-time. Frankly, I can't do it, and I don't want to.

The difference is that I no longer feel guilty about that. I don't love how wishy-washy I've been about this whole thing over the years, but I'm done allowing myself to feel bad about my priorities changing as my life changes. It all became abundantly clear over the past few weeks that my path forward is to revive my little corner of the internet, not on a social writing platform, and to continue making things that make my heart and hands happy. 

I don’t want to create "content." I want to bask the joy of making and writing. I want to take six months to finish a spindle spin because I’m paying attention to the feeling of the wool between my fingers. I want to knit sweaters that take as long as they take, and weave fabric that I may not use for months. 

I want to read books. Oh, goodness, the books! I love an audiobook, but I want to read books, on paper, with my eyes again! I want sitting down with a book to no longer feel like an unproductive waste of time.

Doesn't that hurt to think about? 

These thoughts come at a time when residents of the United States are losing access to the smorgasbord of wool breeds we’ve become accustomed to. I urge you to read Fossil Fibers’ blog post on this matter, as well as the Slate article from a couple weeks ago, and any other information you can get your hands/eyes/ears on. We don’t have a lot of domestic wool processing facilities, especially for combed top, and it shows. Much of the wool we grow here is shipped elsewhere for processing, and even if it were, we don’t have enough fleece sheep to meet the demand for wool in this country.

An electric spinning wheel (espinner) with a purple bobbin partially filled with bright cyan single-ply yarn, which is slowly turning into purple.
Things are about to get more expensive and more difficult to get (some already have), and that’s terrifying for the small businesses that supply us as fiber artists. I think it might even close the casket on some of the larger suppliers. Higher prices, fewer sales, less stock, and longer backorder waiting times do not a successful business make. 

I think we need to look at the warnings we’re seeing about the wool industry and ask ourselves if slowing down could make it less panic-inducing. We're not going to fix this ourselves, but we can continue to support businesses we care about when we can, even if their stock is far more limited. We can use those beautifully handcrafted supplies; we can talk about them; we can write about them; we can allow ourselves to feel joy in making. Don't just hoard your stash because you're afraid you'll never be able to get that special yarn or fiber again. Even if you can't, what good does it do to save the good china?

I have so much to say, and I’m so tired of not saying it, so welcome back.

I hope it's nicer and quieter here. I couldn't take the noise anymore. 

๐ŸŒฟ-Liz 

Saturday, February 18, 2023

Weaving to Sew

I shouldn't be surprised to find that I'm a "let the fabric do the work" kind of weaver-sewist. My sewing skills are rudimentary at best, and I'm a big fan of straight lines.

It was an unexpected joy to browse the web last week and find beautiful garments made from simple shapes. Simple tees take only a handful of seams and finishing work to make from relatively narrow handwoven yardage, and larger items can be created by thoughtful piecing.

This revelation has been brought on by completing the finishing work on my plaid and huck lace project—the first project made on my floor loom. While I started, wove, and finished my next project, the plaid sat and languished, awaiting fringe twisting and a final destination. Last weekend I finished the fringe and washed and dried the piece, and made the final call that it was just too long to be a single wrap. 

It needed a new life, to become something else.

I folded it in half and clipped the edges together in a couple places, and I tossed it over my head and shoulders. Suddenly it dawned on me that there was enough fabric here to make a shirt, or a poncho, or some kind of garment. 

I could talk all day about my distaste for Pinterest, and how half of the images don't link to an original source, but even I have to admit that it's really good for one thing: creating image boards. I searched for handwoven tops and Pinterest delivered. Had I been searching for handwoven top sewing patterns, I would have been sorely disappointed, but that's what a regular web search is for.

screenshot of my Pinterest home grid, with handwoven scarves, tops, ponchos, and a couple sewing projects for skirts and drawstring bags

There are tees, ponchos, jackets, knee-length coats, dresses, and any other kind of top-half covering you could think of. Fiber artists of all sorts are out there making beautiful pieces, whether for the joy of it or to sell, and it's very inspiring. I found a very simple tee that I fell in love with, and it has me thinking about weaving a lightweight cotton and/or linen piece to make summer shirts with. 

First, I thought about using that tee image as a guide to make a top, but the plaid stripes on the handwoven yardage don't evenly match up due to beating my weft inconsistently throughout the project. Oops! Instead, I found a triangular poncho tutorial that I nipped a couple ideas from, and then modified it to meet my needs.

A few zigzag stitches, two cuts, two seams, and topstitching later, a finished poncho appeared!

(Okay, fine, I added a little bit of shoulder shaping after the fact, but it was still a very simple project.)

 

neckline and front of handwoven poncho in aqua, purple, and magenta plaid.


This project has been very exciting for me, because I'm finally getting to a point where I can see myself putting something like this in the shop. The fabric does 95 percent of the work, and I make a couple cuts and careful seams to make a project that looks and feels truly solid and finished. What a wonderful outcome!

I've been a bit under the weather for the past couple days, but things are looking up and I'm happy to be back here on the blog, and thinking about my upcoming projects (which I can't wait to share with you all).

-------------------------------------------------------- 

My next Twitch stream is scheduled for Saturday, March 4 at 9am PST, and I'm working on getting the blog schedule under control as well as adding a newsletter to go alongside the blog. The good news is that both cameras are working again, so I can do show and tell much more easily now.

Once a month streams and blog posts are doable at the moment, but I definitely have a stretch goal of twice monthly for both by the middle to end of the year. Getting back into the swing of things has been great for my mental health, productivity, and allowing myself to rest. I really do thrive on routine, so doing a little every day allows me to not burn out by spending long days working on things.

At the heart of this all is the fact that the more I'm making, the more I have to talk about, and that's a beautiful thing.

Until next time, take care! ๐ŸŒธ

--------------------------------------------------------

Note: You may have noticed a few changes with the design and web hosting of this blog; there may be a few tweaks here and there going forward as well. Behind the scenes, I'm working on streamlining where all of my content lives, and part of that process was securing a new domain name as an all-encompassing location to host my work. 

You'll always be able to get to this blog at freckledfiber.blogspot.com, but you'll notice that the URL will automatically change in your address bar to be blog.freckledfiber.art instead, and that's how I'll be promoting this space going forward.

Additionally, website and hosting changes often take a little while to appear for everyone. If something isn't working, feel free to bring it to my attention, but know that the answer might be "please check again in 24-48 hours!"



Sunday, January 1, 2023

Ringing in the New Year with Intention

Welcome to 2023!

This marks the beginning of my fifth year creating crafting content to put out into the world, and I'd like to pause and reflect on some things I've learned, as well as things I still hope to learn and accomplish.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------  

A Look Back (and Forward)

In January 2018, I began my journey into the crafting content world by going live on Twitch for the very first time. I had a single camera, perched precariously on top of an upended shoebox, to show my knitting work. I had no lights, no face camera, no "production quality." By summer, I was streaming fairly regularly, and slowly gained a second camera, photography lights, and a better sense for setup.

The small community that joined me then is largely still the same today, with additions of course. In December 2018, I was incredibly surprised to see a larger turnout than expected for my holiday jar candle stream—something I had never attempted before, that wasn't in my standard wheelhouse, and that had lots of hiccups and mishaps!

In 2019, we uprooted and undertook a large move. While looking for work, I focused on building up my Twitch channel and the small webshop I had opened. By September, I was dyeing fiber and blending batts for sale. The community helped me choose names for colorways, and was very supportive while I found my way.

Black cube shelves filled with multicolored roving braids and batts.

Toward the end of 2019, I purchased a rigid heddle loom and started getting more serious about weaving. Soon after, we realized we would be moving for work again in the late spring. Streaming, dyeing, and weaving all took the back burner while we packed, prepped, and stressed. My new job required travel, and I couldn't see a way to keep the shop open while I was away from home for half the year, so I didn't. Everything went on hiatus, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't have lots of feelings about it, though I don't love dyeing the way I once did.

2020 came and went, with moving into an apartment sight unseen during the pandemic, starting a new job, traveling, and never really feeling truly settled in at home. 

2021 started much the same, though we were already looking for our next step. I continued traveling for work, and in the middle of a trip, I got word that my husband was selected for his dream job. We would be moving just five weeks after I returned home, and after our road trip across the country, stopping to see family, and settling in, I'd be off again in another three weeks. In an absolute whirlwind of August and September, we made the move and traded our tiny apartment for a real house.

I set off again, and while away I applied, interviewed, and was selected for a new job. Returning home just a couple days before Christmas, it took some time to settle into really feeling at home. It's a difficult thing to come and go so often, because just as you feel sort of settled and at peace, you're off to the races again. It was probably February 2022, when I officially started my new job, that it felt real that I was home for good.

2022 has brought good fortune as well as challenges, and I'm thankful to be in the position we are now. We're secure in our jobs, in our sense of self, and in the hobbies we share as well as those we keep for ourselves. We were finally able to start going camping on a regular basis again, and hiking, and biking, and taking day trips. Even so, when it came time this winter to purchase a floor loom for myself, the thought still crept up that "this is going to be a pain to move when we leave this house." And it will be, but that won't be for several years if we can help it.


This isn't the end goal, but it's a long layover while we work toward it.

A few days ago, we celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary, which roughly coincides with my tenth knitting anniversary. My husband has been such a beacon of support over the years, and we've truly grown into the couple I always hoped to be. We've come such a long way from both questioning if I would really use the spinning wheel I pined after in 2016 to him fully encouraging my purchase of a floor loom just a few weeks ago—and honestly being just as excited about it as I am. Growing together has been a joy no one could have ever prepared me for.

We spent the morning of our anniversary at our favorite local coffee shop, with books and knitting.

Iced coffee, "Next Steps in Weaving" book, and a medium blue-gray sweater project over a cherry cafe table.

Being part of the larger crafting community for ten years is something special. I've made so many friends, connections, successes, and mistakes. I've learned all about tools, techniques, and skills, and taken up adjacent crafts I never thought possible for myself. If anyone had told me in 2010 that I'd be a weaver in 2022, I'd have been very confused.

I hope to be more active in the larger community in 2023, and to not be so afraid of reaching out to others, and joining events, alongs, and classes. I've signed up for the School of SweetGeorgia in order to advance my skills this year, as well as to meet an entirely new community of folks.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

2023 Goals

In my own corner, I've been working out some goals and ideas for the 2023 crafting year. Here are a few things I keep coming back to:

  • Working from stash
    • Spin neutral fibers (white, gray, brown) into yarn to use as solid weaving warps.
    • Pair loud or dark colors in stash with the neutrals to create high-contrast projects.
  • Creating with intention
    • Avoid starting a new project just because you're bored with a current WIP or feel like you "should" be making something.
    • Sit with your goals—Are you wanting to learn a new technique? Do you want the finished product? What is the goal of the process or end result?
    • Resist the fear of missing out; if a project isn't appealing to you, don't start it.
  • Do the thing
    • Stop trying to do the thing, and instead just do it.
    • If you fail, you've still learned something.
    • And what if you succeed?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Project Plans

Note: This section contains affiliate links denoted by asterisks (*). If a purchase is made through an affiliate link, I will receive a commission based on the sale at no extra cost to you. The products I have chosen are ones I have personally used and would recommend.

I did not finish my Archange sweater (partially seen above, with the weaving book) before the new year, but it won't be long until it's finished since it's stockinette from here on out. I'm very much looking forward to wearing this sweater. The pattern was chosen based on a sweater I brought home from my great-grandmother's closet just before she passed away over the summer. That sweater became my cozy house sweater, and I absolutely live in it on cold days. Archange isn't an exact duplicate, but it's close enough that I know I'll love wearing it.

My New Year's Eve cast-on wasn't really a cast-on, but rather a spinning start. I chose to begin my first-ever fully white spinning project, 9 ounces of undyed white alpaca fiber (which is already shedding all over my black shirt). This falls into the working from stash category twofold, as it will also become a neutral background color for a future weaving project.

My next weaving project has been chosen, and I plan to use what was originally a handspun sweater quantity of yarn to make a throw blanket for our living room sofa. This will be my first double-width weaving project, and I haven't yet decided if it's going to be plain weave or twill, but it will have stripes along the warp and will be woven in a single weft color.

Collage of photos showing light gray Berschaf wool and blue/aqua/gold art batts before and after blending and spinning into yarn.

I also have plans to choose or design a weaving project using a Knit Picks Hawthorne Value Pack* this year. I have long loved Hawthorne, and the colors chosen for the value packs take all the guesswork out of choosing multiple colors that coordinate—something I often struggle with. I would like this project to be workable on a rigid heddle loom, and it might very well be the project I warp up and take with me when we go camping this spring. Currently I'm eyeing up this Green Gradient* set because it's springy and green, and far outside the past year's default range of purples and burgundies and blues.

Instead of starting the year off with a full knitting queue like last year, I've cleared out my Ravelry queue and started keeping a notebook and planner with project ideas and plans in it. I hardly got around to any of my queue last year, and I think it was just too overwhelming and didn't leave enough room for new ideas as the year progressed.

If the method doesn't work, try something new!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Content Plans

In addition to my 2023 crafting goals, I have some thoughts about content creation for the year. As many of you know, this is something I continue to be conflicted about in various ways, and it often leaves me feeling vulnerable, guilty, or incapable. I feel that being open is the way forward and hope that I will look back after jumping the hurdles in front of me and see that they were smaller than they initially appeared.

I have learned over the years that the Twitch content that fulfills me most as a creator is catching up with the community over coffee and crafting, without the pressure of making sure the project is consistently in view or trying to teach technical ideas.

Detail photos and tutorial or timelapse videos are better shown on Instagram (for short-form) and YouTube (for long-form). I'm looking forward to improving my photography and filming of projects to share in these places, and putting less pressure on myself to show every step of the process when I'm live. When I'm truly focused on making, I don't do much talking, and the process becomes very rhythmic and relaxing. I love the idea of showcasing the crafting process, and this is a way I can pursue doing that.

Along the same lines, this very blog gives me a fantastic outlet for discussing plans, parts of the crafting process that don't lend themselves to visual depictions, and general thoughts. The other beauty of photos, videos, and blog posts is that they stick around to look back at and reference.

Taking these things into consideration, my rough plans for the year include regular monthly or semi-monthly Twitch catch-up streams, regular Instagram posts and reels, and a slow progression into YouTube videos as I learn more about videography and video editing. Blog posts will continue as projects arise, progress, and conclude.

All of the above really plays into the "stop trying to do the thing, and just do the thing" part of my goals. I spend a lot of time thinking about doing things, realizing they're difficult, and psyching myself out. The idea here is to make what I want to make, film and photograph as best I can along the way, and make the content I want to see. The first cuts are going to be rough, and that's how we learn and improve!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

All in all, I'm thrilled to be ringing in the new year with our community as well as those I've long been a part of. Self-discipline and reflection are going to be integral to my own goals, and I'm looking forward to what 2023 has in store for all of us.

Take care, be at peace, and aim for enjoyment of your craft.

Cheers,
๐Ÿ’• Liz



Sunday, November 20, 2022

Making Room...for a Loom

A few weeks ago, I woke up with a thought buzzing in my brain.


"Check the Warped Weavers Marketplace."

"It's 6:30 in the morning."

"Check the Warped Weavers Marketplace."

"Fine. Why?"

"Don't worry about it."

 

I hadn't looked at the used equipment boards on Ravelry in a while, so I was met with several new "for sale" posts, and found myself looking at a couple of used Macomber looms—both in Maryland. One was for pickup only, and the other would ship. I sat back for a moment, realizing I knew next to nothing about floor loom brands, features, or types. And I wasn't even in the market for a floor loom!

But the bug had bitten me.

I had been admiring the work of several weavers over on Instagram, especially Kate Kilgus, who weaves on a Leclerc Nilus II. Recently, I completed a 2/2 point twill project on my 24-inch rigid heddle loom and, while part of me was content with the slow but rhythmically steady pace of weaving twill that way, I was also thinking a bit about how much more efficient a treadle loom would be for production weaving.

Production weaving is something I've wanted to pursue for a little while now. I want to be able to make runs of useful items, finish them, and put them up for sale in my webshop—and eventually at in-person shows. While I still have a lot of learning to do, I am also comfortable enough with simple designs to feel good selling a finished product.

With these ideas in mind, I broached the subject with my spouse. While we're very much a "you don't need my permission" household, we do like to discuss expensive items, and new floor looms with the features I'm looking for can range anywhere from $3,250 to $5,000. 

Not. Cheap.

Thankfully, he's very supportive of my hobbies and general well-being, so it quickly became clear that this wouldn't be an "if" but rather a "when," and I set off to compare looms.

Well, a day and a half later, I had made myself a spreadsheet. It's not perfect, but you're welcome to peek at it! (Click on the image to open in a new tab and view at original size.)

 

36-inch Jack Loom Comparison Chart (please reach out for an Excel or PDF copy if interested)

The chart includes only 8-harness, 10-treadle floor looms, because those are the parameters I was specifically looking for.

To be perfectly honest, I spent a long time waffling between various looms. The only one that was never a strong contender was the Schacht Standard, due to sheer cost. I spent a couple hours trying to find the difference between the Leclerc Artisat and the Nilus II, and discovered that the Artisat folds up from both the front and back beams, and the Nilus II folds only from the back beam. Likewise, the Nilus II is heavier and sturdier. The Harrisville with added studio equipment package from Eugene Textile Center (ETC) is incredibly attractive (it even includes a bench!), but the Harrisville is also the lightest weight loom on the chart, and if you're interested in rugs or anything requiring a heavy beat, it won't be the loom for you. However, if portability is high on your list and you're not looking to make such items, it's a strong contender!

It's all give and take, cost and features, portability and stability. When I started the spreadsheet, I had only five looms listed, but as I researched I was reminded about the Harrisville and Ashford options.

If you're in the market, don't let my final selection color your opinions. Seek out information, watch videos, and feel free to use or build off of my chart. If you'd like an Excel copy, I'm happy to send you one.

At the end of my search, I decided on the Ashford Jack Loom. It's a sturdy loom with removable back and front beams for easy threading, its back beam folds in to save space when not in use, it comes standard with Texsolv heddles, it has a built-in raddle, and if purchased from Pacific Wool and Fiber it comes with a free add-on item (I'm choosing the large warping board). There's a great video from Kate Sherratt at Ashford on YouTube if you're interested in how this specific loom works.

We're working on our budget and figuring out when I'll be able to order a new loom, if a used one in good condition doesn't show up in the meantime. (Being closer to the West Coast, used looms are harder to come by.)

Since deciding to take the plunge, I've been watching a lot of weaving videos, mostly from Felicia at SweetGeorgia, who has a wonderful way of explaining things and being relatable and trying to make things as accessible as possible for folks. I feel like I've learned a ton, but I'm also itching to learn hands-on. I'm poking through my stash and thinking about the possibilities to come.

So, this weekend I went ahead and rearranged the craft room to make space. While I don't know when a floor loom will grace this floor, I do know that rearranging furniture now and building a loom later is a better option than doing both back to back. I also took the opportunity to open up the room so I have better access to the windows and easy access to everything else. 

While not the tidiest-looking, I did accomplish a bit of cable management on my PC and set up the desk perpendicular to the bookshelves that hold nearly all of my fiber and yarn stash, as well as reference books.

 
The real accomplishment was opening up this space in front of the window for the future loom. With the space to the left and the work table to the right, it should shape up to be a nice, accessible workspace. The rug is 62 inches wide, and the loom will be just over 45 inches wide, so there's plenty of room for the drawers on the right to open as well.

 
I'll keep you all posted about the new loom, and in the meantime I'll be finishing my WIPs and getting ready to start 2023 off strong with intentional, useful, and wearable makes to share with you all!

Last night's WIP was the beautiful burgundy Merino/yak/silk blend I started spinning over the summer and let languish on the shelf these past few months. It's great to be back at it, and I'm looking forward to knitting and weaving with more handspun in the future.

If you have a loom you love, stories about how you ended up with yours, or a loom you've been dreaming of for years, feel free to comment! I'd love to hear about your experiences.

Until next time, stay cozy, stay crafty, and don't be a stranger. ๐Ÿ’—

Saturday, October 22, 2022

Adventures in Point Twill

Back in 2019, I purchased a secondhand Kromski Harp Forte 24-inch rigid heddle loom.

I assembled it, marveled at its structure, especially after weaving on a DIY loom for over a year, and immediately got to making things complicated by weaving twill for the first time. I wove a simple 3/1 twill, with two heddles and a pick-up stick, and I have very little photographic proof of this teeny tiny project because it got ruined by a leaky bottle of sesame oil in our cross-country move.

Bummer, that. It was a cute little coaster. 

Since then, the loom has sat on a shelf or its stand for longer than I care to admit, but hardly a day has gone by that I haven't thought about weaving. We've moved twice since it came to live with me, and space was An Issue for nearly a year and a half.

But now...

24-inch rigid heddle loom sitting on top of a wooden work table. A point twill project in blues, pinks, purples, whites, and black is on the loom, sunshine is coming through the window blinds from behind, and a pepperomia plant sits off to the left of the loom.
I'll be honest, I really like this weaving spot.

 

Okay, okay, I did one rigid heddle project earlier this year, too.

Wide, folded, handwoven purple scarf, with rainbow twisted fringe.
"Yes, yes, we get it. The purple scarf is very nice." – everyone, probably

 

While I'm positively tickled about this point twill project, it took a minute to get to get here.

You might want a beverage and a comfortable chair for this one.  

----------------------------------------------------

Over a month ago, I started picking through my leftovers bowl. I wanted to weave a scrappy project but was increasingly frustrated that none of the scraps seemed to go together. I pulled out most of the handspun balls, and started to see a few things coming together: dark purple, gray/pink, white/blue/purple/sparkle, blue/teal/pink, hazy black.

It looked like a reasonable amount of warp, which makes no sense because I hadn't even picked a project. What the hell is a reasonable amount of warp when you don't have a project in mind?

I dug out my warping pegs, and flipped my loom upside down on its stand to wind my warp. This is a really useful feature of many rigid heddle looms, and I'm learning to take better advantage of it rather than direct warping all the time.

I'd be lying if I told you I remembered how long the warp is. It's a good length, I think just over 3 yards? I checked when I put the pegs on the warping board, and then I didn't promptly write it down so it's gone forever.  

Yarn wrapped around pegs on a warping board, incorporating many blues, purples, blacks, and some pops of pink.

A chain of weaving warp coiled attractively, incorporating many blues, purples, blacks, and some pops of pink.

It wasn't enough warp width for anything more than a belt. So, I went back to the bowl and pulled out the remaining purple handspun I used for the weft in the scarf above, and a little under 40 grams of leftover blue-gray BFL/silk/cashmere sock yarn.

I got to work threading my three heddles (one on each set of heddle blocks, and one floating in the middle) according to Meilindis' blog post, took a break to make and eat dinner with my husband, and went back to it. Once things were tied on and looking even, he came in to admire my work. I told him I wasn't sure yet what I wanted to make, but that I had a pretty good length of warp—much longer than I really needed for even a scarf. I thought about table runners, placemats, etc., but he ran he hand across the newly-tensioned warp and gently mentioned that he would love a scarf—if and only if I needed a reason to weave.

I had been meaning to make him a scarf for a while now, and he had picked out some yarn, but he really seemed to like the blues and purples in this warp. I showed him the navy blue weft, and the weave structure I was planning to use, and he was thrilled.

After spacing my warp, I got started weaving a bit of tabby to even things out. It was kind of fussy, so I only wove about eight picks of it. Then I started on the real draft, and ... it wasn't any better. 

24" rigid heddle loom equipped with three heddles, sitting on its stand. a mostly blue and purple chevron/point twill project is in progress
 

It was gorgeous, but I was struggling to get an even, open shed while having to hold a second heddle up or down manually and pass the shuttle through with my one free hand. Something about part of my tension was strange as well, and in a handful of the slots housing two warp ends, the yarns were fighting to pass by each other.

With just one hand to work on everything, the weaving process slowed to a crawl, and I was frustrated. So, I did what I intended to do last year. I ordered a set of double heddle blocks for the loom, and I ignored the project for a bit.

Once the heddle blocks arrived, I took the loom off its stand, laid it on the floor, and started undoing bolts. This was all well and good, except it quickly became clear to me that the double heddle block did not fit next to the single heddle block. Well, it fit, but when loaded with heddles, there was no space between them to move said heddles. I was flabbergasted, annoyed, pissed, to be honest. I spent $40 on a couple hunks of wood and couldn't even use them as intended.

partial image of a rigid heddle loom showing a double heddle block next to a single heddle block
Welp.

I thought about just starting over in plain weave, or powering through the project until I could find a way to alter one of the old sets of single blocks to fit over the back support beam, to allow more space between the blocks for the heddles to move. I got my hacksaw out and cut a chunk out of an old heddle block. No dice.

A red hacksaw and a single heddle block with a chunk taken out of it
This was about as fun as it looks like it was.

A couple weeks went by, and I really didn't know where to begin, but I got that furrowed brow, that notion of "I'm going to figure it out or it can't be done."

I pulled the loom back off the stand and set it on my work table. I inspected where the heddles were bolted on, and the holes on the opposite side of the loom. I could rearrange the blocks, but then one set would be too far forward and impede my weaving space. 

Sigh.

I remembered reading somewhere that assembling the loom backwards could cause catastrophic failure, but... how? If this loom wasn't meant to be used forward or backward, why on earth were there reversed heddle block holes on the opposite side?

I measured the space between the two sets of holes on the opposite side. They were the same anyway; it didn't matter.

But they looked different. Why did they look different?

I thought about folding the loom up, and how the bottom support beams, where the feet attach, don't line up perfectly so that the feet don't crash into each other when the loom is folded up. 

THAT'S IT.

I measured and confirmed, the holes on the front of the loom at the same distance from each other but overall further away from the beam. What that means is that I had room to put the double heddle block near the beam, and the single heddle block in front, and everything would fit.

And so it was, and there was much rejoicing.

partial view of a rigid heddle loom with double and single heddle blocks next to each other (this time with more space between them and a hand spanning the space to show)
Look at all that space!

The rejoicing was only mildly tempered by the fact that the front of the loom was now the back of the loom, and not only did I need to turn the loom around, but I also needed to roll the entire length of the warp from the cloth beam (formerly the warp beam) to the warp beam (formerly the cloth beam), re-tie my ends with better tension, and maybe even re-thread the heddles—all three of them.

Rigid heddle loom with partial project and three heddles, but something's wrong...
Do you see?

I wasn't going to risk losing momentum, so I stuck my earbuds in and got to work, pausing only briefly for another Cooking Together segment.

In the end, I did choose to re-thread the heddles. Some ends had gotten twisted the first time around, and I wasn't completely sure I didn't mess things up in another way. Better safe than sorry, right? Additionally, I took more care in tying on with even tension, using smaller bundles of warp ends this time around. 

two rigid heddles in the process of being threaded with colorful yarn
 

To each heddle, its own block.

three rigid heddles, fully threaded

 

I spaced my warp, and I started again. This time I forgot to start with tabby weave, but paused several picks in to do my hemstitching, and it looks reasonably fine so I'm not fussing over it. I just wanted to get on with it and get going and make sure everything worked. 

And it does!

24" rigid heddle loom with a project just started, and a coffee mug in the background.
 
several inches of a point twill weaving project, incorporating many blues, purples, blacks, and some pops of pink.

I'm having only very mild issues with those same few problem ends getting stuck up or down and having to manipulate them every two picks, but with both hands free it's much more pleasant, and much faster. I'm beating more evenly, leaving space for the fabric to bloom later on, and the work is so much more enjoyable.

Now I can truly say I'm absolutely thrilled to be working on this point twill scarf, and it's been great for catching up on podcasts. I'm still not very far along with it, but this weekend should give me some quality weaving time.

(angled shot) several inches of a point twill weaving project, incorporating many blues, purples, blacks, and some pops of pink. roll of separating paper visible under loom. pepperomia plant in background

Kromski, you've made a very versatile loom, and I'll keep my toes crossed that the loom gods don't choose to curse me with a catastrophic failure. 

straight-on shot of point twill weaving project, incorporating many blues, purples, blacks, and some pops of pink. roll of separating paper visible under loom. pepperomia plant in background
----------------------------------------------------

Some of you might have noticed a new accessory in the last couple of photos. One downside(ish) to this modification is that I can't use my loom stand now unless I get longer bolts. I say (ish) because, honestly, I prefer weaving at the work table. Because of this, I needed to figure out how to hold my roll of packing paper that keeps the layers of my warp as well as my cloth separate and evenly tensioned. 

Well, lo and behold, we had a yardstick laying around that came with the house, so I tied it up to the front support beam with some scrap yarn and stuck the whole roll on it. Works like a charm, and you could just as easily use it on the stand if you were so inclined.

 

It feels great to be successfully weaving again. I'm excited to continue working on this scarf, and I hope to get some shop items on the loom shortly after it's finished. My stash is calling me to throw things together and see what happens. That's been the beauty of weaving for me. Colors play together so differently than they do in knitting or crochet. It's a whole different world.

Thanks for reading. I'll see you next time. ๐Ÿ‚

 


Saturday, October 15, 2022

Saturday Thoughts: Social Media, Personal Brands, and Connection

Happy Saturday, everyone! 

It's certainly starting to feel more like fall here, and all I want to do is craft and cook and clean.

I have a robust weaving post coming out in just a few days, but for now I'd like to share some thoughts I've been compiling in this draft throughout the week.


Social media and content platforms skew heavily toward single-facet content. 

We see pattern designers modeling knitwear in picturesque locations, sometimes cautiously alluding to other parts of their lives, but keeping a fair distance from anything not knitting-related. We see makers post nothing but makes, artists post nothing but art, writers post nothing but aesthetically pleasing text blocks.

This is what it means to make a brand, to be a brand, and there's nothing inherently wrong with it. There's a lot of benefit to it, in reality. People know what to expect from your posts, and they're almost always met with something along the lines of what they expect.

It's familiar, it's comfortable, and if you're lucky it's profitable.

But it's not whole.

 

I have a feeling there are plenty of folks out there who want to share other facets of their hobbies and lives, but are afraid to do so due to the algorithm—especially if they're running a business.

Frankly, I want to see your garden, your baking experiments, your houseplants, and all your new crafts and hobbies outside your main shtick, but I understand why you might not want to post them to your grid.

 

So, when you're someone who wants to create for the community but also retain your sense of self—without maintaining two Instagram accounts—what do you do? 

I've landed firmly in the realm of using Instagram posts and stories as a sort of split stream: posts largely pertain to makes and shop updates, while stories are where I share posts from makers and artists I admire, create short videos to share bits of my life, and promote blog posts.

For a short second, I contemplated adding grid posts for new blog content, but I'll tell you why I'm not going to do that. My blog content is more personal than what you see on Instagram, and I think it demands a slightly different audience. At the same time, grid posts are highly visual, and get far more click engagement than written engagement. 

With grid posts, people like, share, comment, etc., and it's largely a short interaction. People want to scroll through pretties and click hearts.

With stories, people like and maybe share, but when they "comment," it's a direct message. It's more personal. It's direct-to-inbox. Could that get overwhelming at some point? Absolutely. But right now, it's the closest thing I see to commenting on the blog itself, and it invites connection and discussion.

I'm here for that. 

At least for me, I know that I pause for a moment before commenting on someone's story. Is what I have to say positive? Is it important enough to send directly to the person's inbox? Maybe more importantly, If I were on the receiving end, would I want to see this message?


Many of us have lost our local communities, or moved, or drifted away from connecting with others in general. I've lived here for over year and have had local folks to meet up with since I put feet on the sand, and I still haven't done that. I've made it to exactly one knitting group, one singular Saturday morning.

I have my little Twitch broadcast when I'm feeling it, and I do enjoy that outlet and community—most of it, anyway. My Twitch community is responsible for me feeling even remotely qualified to write this very blog, and they've been with me since 2018. That's big!

But I can't help feeling like I should try to shape the community a bit better, by tying together my video content (whether it be Twitch, YouTube, or a brand new platform), social media, and blogging.

I guess some of that is to say that I'm not going anywhere, even though I've taken a few weeks off from streaming to get my mojo back and do some troubleshooting—both technology and craft-related. I continue to iterate on what I want this overall space to look like, and how to get there, and I'm happy you're here with me.


Next post will be very happy and exciting weaving updates! I'd like to get a little further along and take some daylight photos before I share the trials and tribulations of the point twill project I started at least a month ago.

But what a story it will be. You have no idea. ๐Ÿ˜‚ 

 

Full transparency: I don't have any stream updates right now. I've been enjoying having my crafting mojo back, but I'm not feeling good about the Twitch space right this second, and I've been very sleepy this week. 

I'll see you when I see you. Post some passion projects to your IG stories this weekend if that's your thing, and take care. ๐Ÿ’›

Tuesday, October 4, 2022

Baking, Weaving, Living

The wheel turns, and suddenly it's autumn.

Happy October; frog and cranberries it must be fall! 

 

Fresh cranberries floating on top of water, with a frog nestled in the middle

 

For me, fall brings about an urge to reset things, cook, clean, rearrange, close old chapters, and open new ones.

As such, I decided to take a couple weeks away from the streaming space and spend some time just being and doing.

Last weekend, I cleaned my desk, disassembled and cleaned my mechanical keyboard, put away some drying lemon leaves and rosemary, baked my first loaf of sourdough bread, and enjoyed some cooler morning weather here in Las Vegas.

Brown, crusty loaf of sourdough bread with a few slashes in the top, cooling on a wire rack
The Second Loaf™

Back up to the weekend before last, when I mixed up some sourdough starter and managed to feed it regularly all week. Come last Friday, things were very bubbly and ready to make some bread. (I was hopeful but not terribly confident, after my last loaf of regular yeast-based bread didn't rise enough and came out pretty dense, although tasty.) After an overnight rise, the sourdough loaf didn't look much different than it had when I popped it into the pan, and I was worried. 

Within ten minutes in the oven, the loaf had magically sprung up to perfect loaf size and started browning. It came out brown, squishy, crusty but not tough, and tasty—the perfect sandwich loaf. As I'm writing this on Friday, September 30, I have another batch of dough on its first rise downstairs in the kitchen, and a jar of starter discard in the fridge waiting to make crackers tomorrow. 

 

Coffee on the back patio is one of my life's small pleasures, and I'm happy to report that mornings are now lovely and cool enough to draw myself and my mug outside to sit with the breeze and the birds. I need to restock the seed feeder, and the hummingbird feeder isn't getting much action (probably due to hanging it so late in the season), but there are always a few visitors nonetheless. Friendly finches, handsome hummers, and pudgy pigeons for the most part.

A coffee mug and a large lemon tree branch lay on a wooden cutting board. A silver bowl with plucked leaves sits in the background After my husband pruned our lemon tree, I realized the leaves had a very similar scent to makrut lime leaves that used in Thai cooking. After some swift googling, I found out that lemon leaves (all citrus leaves, really) can be used in place of lime leaves, and I plucked all the healthy leaves I could find on the pruned branches and set them aside to dry.

One of the beauties of living in the desert is that I can set things out just about anywhere to dry and not worry about anything molding or keeping moisture for too long. Now I have a bag of lemon leaves in my pantry, ready for curry-making. They also smell great. Additionally, I have a jar of dried lemon peels and a separate, small jar of sliced, immature lemon slices to use in potpourri/simmer pots later on.

 

 

In crafting news, I started a point twill weaving project a couple weeks back. The warp is made up of a bunch of handspun scraps, with some sock yarn leftovers thrown in to beef up the width. 

Handspun yarns wound into weaving warp and braided neatly. Blues, hot pink, some purples, and a bit of white.

It's going well, though I haven't worked on it in about a week because I've been trying to find a solution for adding a set of single heddle blocks behind the double heddle blocks in the front. The idea when I ordered the double set was to have space for three heddles, for projects such as these. It turns out, however, that there isn't enough clearance between blocks for the second and third heddles to move.

With a pencil and a small hacksaw, I've been slowly working to take a chunk out of each single heddle block, in order to slide them over the back support beam. When this project comes to fruition, I will be happy to share photos and a how-to with you all. Until then, not a lot of weaving is happening, because I'm having to hold up or push down that third heddle manually every time I need to use it. To add insult to injury, there are a couple of warp threads that aren't playing nicely, and I have to manipulate them by hand, which is difficult when I have only one hand free!

Chevron point twill weaving project. Warp is multicolored, purples, blues, white, a splash of pink, and some dark purples and blacks. Weft is navy blue.
 

It's going to be a beautiful scarf, and a labor of love, for my well-deserving husband. 

They're all learning experiences, aren't they?


Knitted hat with folded brim, made out of highly variegated yarn with neon hues and black
I made him a pretty cool hat, too.

I had big plans this year to wrap up my WIPs and start several new projects. As expected, many of those projects are still sitting in the queue, a WIP from this year is still on the needles, and my oldest WIP is about to reach its birthday on October 17. Life happens that way sometimes. I've learned more about myself and how I like to spend my time, I've done some pretty cool projects in between, and I'm still working toward future goals.

Once the scarf is off the loom, I have loose plans to make items for the long-awaited shop re-opening. I could look at this as motivation and/or pressure to get on with things and get going, but instead I'm choosing to look at it as a fresh start of sorts. I have the outline, and I'll fill in the blanks as I go.

What's for sale will be completely different from the Freckled Fiberworks we all knew in 2020, and I think that's exactly what I need. I'm 31, I have more stability in my life than ever, and I can take the time to make things I truly enjoy, and to share them with you all.


I'll leave you with a prompt I'm still reflecting on. My Co-Star app—as skeptical as I am about astrology—has been very good for self-reflection prompts over the past several months. 

 

"What do you want from this journey?" 

 

Feel free to comment below if you have any thoughts you'd like to share; I'll reply to every single one, and I'll share my thoughts in my next post. ๐Ÿงก

 

Until next time, stay cozy, stay crafty, and make time for you. Happy Autumn! ๐Ÿ‚


Friday, September 9, 2022

Some Notes on Project Choice and Mental Space

Recently, I've come to a realization that my developed affinity for simple projects (stockinette and garter knitting, single and double crochet, plain weave) is a response to more than I originally thought. It's not uncommon for me to sing the praises of plain pieces when working with handspun yarn, since much of my handspun is striped or variegated and can get lost in a pattern, or the pattern can get lost in the yarn, but there's another factor.

I can lose myself in the work when it doesn't take all my attention, and I can use that attention to, for instance, listen to an audiobook or podcast. I can talk to my mother on the phone and not have to pause to count stitches in a lace repeat, or make sure I'm crossing that eight-stitch cable the right way. Barring all that, I can let my mind wander off to think about future projects, do mundane planning, consider uses for leftovers from the project at hand, etc. 

If we're talking about my garter stitch blanket, I could read a blog post or a book with how little I have to look at that project. Four edge stitches, knit all the way across, four edge stitches. Even if I miss pulling a stitch all the way through, I'll catch it on the way back; ask me how I know.

This realization comes at a time that I've leapt back into reading both print and audiobooks. Just last week, I finished Jenna Woginrich's Barnheart, in ebook form, and I've recently finished Roots, Branches, and Spirits, by H. Byron Ballard, as an audiobook. Spending time reading and listening to published words rather than social media drivel has been excellent for my well-being, and if you've been away from reading as a pastime for too long (as I was), I cannot recommend enough to give it another shot.

This post came about because I've had an insatiable urge to crochet for the past several months. You might remember my simple, single crochet shawl from back in March (yikes, that was March?!), that I finished in about three weeks while juggling some other projects. Every other crochet project I've cast on since has been frogged, because I'm just not feeling it, but I want to crochet. 

Last weekend, I set out during my Twitch broadcast to find a new crochet project. I searched my library and favorites on Ravelry for an hour, couldn't find yarn for what I originally thought I wanted, and settled on starting a fairly simple pocket shawl pattern. I cast on 156 stitches, did a row of double crochet, admired my work, continued with a row of front/back post double crochet ribbing, and immediately ripped it out.

The f/bpdc stitches were aggravating me, and I preferred the look of the plain old double crochet row.

I want to crochet, and I want relatively mindless crochet. That shawl linked above was perfect; it started out as a mosaic crochet project, but the yarn didn't work out for that, and I continued on with my handspun until I ran out. It's a triangular shawl where the yarn does all the work and the stitches just tell the yarn where to land. 

Something I've noticed—and I'm not sure if it's just because I'm drawn to the aesthetic or because it's more popular—is that among those who sell their handmade goods, plain items with just a little bit of flair are the bread and butter of the operation. Rustic woven table runners with a contrast stripe here and there, but all plain weave. Gorgeous, colorful guitar straps, but mostly plain weave (and of course the ones that aren't are significantly more expensive). Large, gradient shawls, generally in a single and/or double crochet pattern with the occasional accent. Knitted hats, either stockinette or ribbed.

Part of that is going to be the ease and speed with which one can crank out those items, which makes them far more profitable, but I can't help but consider that allowance for brain space, for thought, for listening, for planning. Once those physical tasks are put on near-autopilot, you've just freed up a lot of time for your mind to wander.

With that, I'm trying to slow down a little, work on what feels right, and keep things simple as much as I can. The complex projects will come as inspiration allows, but there's no need to complicate things unnecessarily.

No photos this week, but I encourage you to get outside if you can (or get comfy-cozy inside if you can't), bring a simple project, and just be with it. Check out that nice park you never go to, or just enjoy your own patio or porch.

Feel free to let me know what you're reading and/or working on, in the comments here or in my Discord server.

I'll be around in the morning with some kind of craft and coffee.

While I want to weave, it might not be the right time yet. 

Be gentle with yourselves, and enjoy your weekend. ๐Ÿ’›


 

Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Argil & Road Trip

I feel like I owe y'all an apology.

There's a post that's been sitting in my drafts since the end of June, about a project I've really been enjoying! I posted a little about it in my old haunt on Ravelry, and I tossed a very early photo into my Discord server, but it hasn't graced Instagram or the blog. 

I'll throw the original unfinished post here between page breaks, and then discuss further after:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

(from ~17 June)

With the crochet baby blanket completed and the Umaro/Mayan Blanket/Lunar Crossings frogged (๐Ÿ™ƒ), I'm excited to say I've casted on a new, somewhat portable project: Argil by Clare Lakewood.

Argil was released in Pom Pom Quarterly in summer 2019, and it's been in my queue since I picked up the magazine. Honestly, it's a great magazine and, while I'm never going to like every pattern published, I consistently like several patterns in each issue. I might consider subscribing in the future, but right now I have a hefty library of patterns I like to shop through when choosing a new project.

As a sidenote, my Habitation Throw is still on the needles, and juuuuuust about halfway finished. It lives on the couch as my TV knitting because it's getting to be quite large to tote around.  

For Argil, I'm using Less Traveled Yarn's Tweed Me base in the Merlot colorway as my main color, and leftover Knit Picks Stroll Tweed in Oyster Heather for my contrast color. The result should be a very wearable top to pair with a skirt or jeans!

While my WIPs have been dwindling down, I've been thinking more and more about working through my stash. I'm keeping my fiber subscription, but I really want to get through some of this yarn, especially what's been in stash for years. While it's tempting to lean on crochet or weaving to eat up yardage, and I do want to set aside some time to plan out my next large weaving project, the truth of the matter is that I need to actually work on things and continue on my quest to stare at my phone less.

So, here I am, casting on again but not feeling overwhelmed by WIPs.

That was the goal, wasn't it?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

How's Argil doing an entire month later? Good!

overhead view of myself sitting on a cabin porch swing, with a burgundy and cream striped knitting project in my lap, along with an issue of Pom Pom Quarterly
Porch knitting, best knitting.

Well, mostly good. I ran out of my contrast color, so it's on hold for a minute.

Otherwise, it's been a very fun, very potato chippy knit. There's a contrast stripe after every six stockinette rows, and that really keeps things moving and makes it easy to measure progress.

I took Argil along on our 1,600-mile (each way) road trip to see our family in the Midwest a couple weeks ago, and it was also a great car knitting project. With only two colors, it fits in a small project bag easily and without too much tangling. We split the drive in half every day with me driving in the morning and my spouse driving in the afternoon, so swapping to the passenger seat after lunch and getting my project out was a super easy transition. I didn't work on it every day, but having the option was great.

Some afternoons I just stared out the window.

deset landscape with green shrubs, low mountains, cumulus clouds in a blue sky, and a Union Pacific freight train stretching all the way across the image
I really, really don't get tired of this view.

Currently, Argil is about 75 percent finished, and I'm happy to work on something else until I have the yarn to finish it. I've reached out to folks in my Discord server to see if they have any leftovers, but I'm also not fussed about buying a new skein. It's not an expensive yarn, and I can't imagine having a leftover bit of cream-colored tweed yarn in my stash would be detrimental.

That's about it for Argil right now, but if you'd like to hear a little more about our trip, I'll add some more tidbits below!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

We stayed in cabins most of the trip out and back, and split our time back home between a cute little cottage and tent camping (joke's on us; we didn't book early enough to get the cottage over the holiday weekend). 

It was hot and humid, so having the air conditioned cottage most of the time was great. We also had some adorable trash panda visitors (parent and three littles) by our campfire, lots of birds to watch, and groundhogs galore. I could occupy myself for an entire week just watching the wildlife. ๐Ÿฆ

racoon looking at the camera while stopped on lake embankment rocks
Hey there, bud.
(click to enlarge)

We also got really lucky over the weekend that we were tent camping because it rained that Friday night, and temperatures stayed cooler over the weekend. Family came out to barbecue, and everyone had a good time. We did have a skunk visitor in the tent camping area, but everyone kept their distance and avoided a spraying incident. ๐Ÿฆจ

In any case, I'm going to have a hard time topping this morning view.

late sunrise over water, framed by green trees and grass, with a blue-green tent on the left side

 Until next time, be safe, stay cool, and keep crafting. ๐Ÿ’•

Keep Going

It's Tuesday evening around bedtime, and I'm weaving on my 7" square pin loom. To be honest, I've been working on it off an...