Inkle Loom…Floor Size… Finished (free online plans)

Was cool finding someone had used my plan after so many years!

Fabric Follies Two

I’ve finished with the inkle loom.  I don’t think I got it sanded well enough, but lets hope that with use some of that will change.  Here it is:



I haven’t done a true warping yet, but in just playing around I got a 17 yard wrap.  I think that will work out to about 15 yards of weaving by the time waste is extracted from that.  Can’t wait to try it…lo







I was at a bit of a loss as to what to paint on it so the easiest thing on something this narrow was a vine of roses with a sprinkling of lavendar sweet peas… I think my sweet DH may get a little tired of looking around at all the… seems I paint a lot of them.


This was not terribly hard to build.   The plans for this are…

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Empty Nest

I am a father of three. My eldest is married to a good man, she has two lovely babies of her own, and lives literally half way across the country from me. My middle lives in the same town as his big sister. My youngest still lives at home, at least for one more school year.

My eldest brought her children to visit me for just over a month. I hate how little time I actually got to spend with them because of work. I could not take off because I am a school teacher, my team teacher has been sick and thus absent, and our students could not be left with no teacher (small school). 

I walked past the bedroom where my grandkids slept and the floor was covered with toys.  It hit me hard. The silence in the house. The hollow missing feeling. Even my youngest is not here tonight. If I could cry, I know I would. I miss their noise more than words can describe. I miss picking them up. I miss their crying. I miss them falling asleep in my arms. I miss their noise.

I did not get to give them a hug or kiss before they left, I had to be at work. I missed the life of my children at work, and now my grandchildren because of work. The cat’s in the cradle with a silver spoon…

I miss their noise.

The New Year and the Old

My life this last year was filled with the blessing of meeting many wonderful people, and the pain of loosing so many more.

My wish for all of you:

May you be blessed with peace and happiness, may your hearts and bellies be full, may you find comfort and security, and may you not loose any of the good you find.


Sometimes I am not sure which is worse, being damaged or being damaged and trying to repair others who are damaged. Sometimes I just want to run away, to be nowhere, no one. I want to be set free from this path, this job, this road I was set upon long before I was born. I have no past lives, I have no future lives, this is it. It is the only one I have. Somedays I feel like a pathetic looser, then wonder what a pathetic looser actually is… is it that face looking at me in the mirror. I am just tired, exhausted, and wishing out. I have tried before, and was simply told that it was not my time, do not bother trying, there will only be consequences for trying, I am not allowed out, and then my heart restarted.

I have a kitten, she bit and scratched me tonight. My heart is now bleeding, with no visible resolution.

just let me come home.

There’s a Hole in my Bucket

A friend recently posted her view on depression. It is my turn to give my view.

Our lives are like are like buckets, and they are filled with love. People sometimes innocently or not, damage their own or someone else’s bucket. Enough damage, and holes form. Some damage is small, some quite large. Small injuries make small cuts that build up to create large holes. If the hole is near the top, the bucket will hold love, and it is easy to repair. When the hold is large and near the bottom, the holes are hard to repair and the bucket empties far faster than it can be filled.

This is depression. It is when no matter how much love is poured into a bucket, it drains faster than it can be filled, leaving the person feeling empty. You can not just make it go away. You can not just feel happy. Your only hope is that it can be patched before there is nothing left.

Thus reminding me of the song, “There’s a Hole in my Bucket.”Holey_Bucket

What happened


I often ask this question of myself. Where am I? Why am I not who I used to be?

So often I feel this body is time shared between a variety of souls. There is an entire series of beliefs about people with dual spirits. I know that my body will work when I am away. It has done it many times before. Sometimes it has hurt people, Doctors. I call it auto pilot. It is the body reacting when I am not here, when they have “sedated me.”

Where is the child that used to live within, the one with the ancient soul, more ancient than time. I knew him, and he was not me. I wish I knew. He lived in warmth, and I have always lived in the cold.

Sleep well my friend. I will see you our dreams.

The other me

With light arose

When I read your words of fire and flame
My heart those wise grows young the same

Though flowers do oft my mind not compose
The delicious embers of my cock arose

When souls do meet in a stream of delight
Though friend we touch with amazing sight

Together as friends we walk this path
Flames burning bright with a wick to last

The flower and the eagle sore,
The pedal and the dragon more,
Through steal and chain
Anguish and pain
The tempered souls
With light arose.