Precarious

Dee left a comment on my last blog of occasionally being out of awareness of one's self. I realized at long last I am looking at a real and kind definition of my approach to the world since that bus accident on the mall in Washington. I'm often out of awareness of myself. Off in a reverie.

I seldom pile into my day, these days. I'm off smelling the roses and realize I need to put on the other sock to finish dressing. So although I faithfully get up at eight, it's going on nine when I'm dressed and it can be ten before I've finished breakfast. 

Settled into weaving I'm more reliable, a good thing. Even jobs I detest, I can stick to. And the other day I mopped all the grey tire marks of the walker from the bathroom floor. We're into another two foot snow dump, so I'm happy the first layer of dirt is gone.

I began tying the new warp to the old last Monday. I'm simply not fast at that, and it has nothing to do with daydreaming. I have aged into a serious case of fumble fingers. Back in the day we did this for a living, my sister could tie her way across 660 threads in a couple of hours. I would be an entire afternoon. 

This loom has eleven sections with 40 threads per section to tie. Nine are done, and the last two will happen tomorrow. I have tied nine sections in four days. These take me an hour each. Sadly, after two sections, my fingers refuse to make another knot! I almost don't blame them. 

At the far left, those are sections ten and eleven taped to the back beam. Section ten has 38 new threads taped to the beam, to be tied to 40 old threads in the heddles.  That means two threads are stuck in there, between sections. Stickers, we used to call them. There are solutions. I'll need to improvise, since this is the first time since the old days I've had the problem. All the fine tools we devised are long gone.