A Small Weaving

Sadie Curtis working the big loom at Hubbell's Trading Post in Ganado, 1979

Between 1978 and 1980, my family and I lived in Ganado, Arizona—in the heart of the Navajo Indian Reservation (Diné Nation). I worked as a librarian at the College of Ganado. In the spring of 1980, my wife took a course at the college in Navajo weaving. 

Building a loom

 I built her a loom and she wove a small Ganado-style rug approximately three feet by two feet. We bought a lot of yarn, including hand-spun warp. Linda roamed the hills gathering local plants

Linda gathering juniper berries for dye

and she dyed white yarn to have a sampling of vegetable-dyed colors as well as greys, black, white and red.

Linda at the loom, 1980

All this got put on hold when we left Ganado and moved east for a new position in July 1980. 

 

Tapping in weft.

Fitting in the last rows of weft.

Linda's finished rug. Simple, but beautifully woven.

Still, we never threw any wool or tools away. This past winter, as I became active in the Navajo rugs Facebook discussion group, I recalled the loom we still had stored in a barn and the many yarns stored in a box and flour sack.

 

 

 

Weaving tools brought from Arizona and saved for 44 years.

Yarns saved, some with labels indicating the plants used for dyes.

 I hate to have anything go to waste. I decided to make a weaving of my own. We brought the loom up to our house and framed a small rug approximately 13 by 23 inches. I wanted to start small. I also decided that a small effort would allow the use of the vegetable-dyed yarns that we had small samples of. I began weaving in early January and confined my efforts to two hours each morning when the sun shone best on the loom and my eyesight was fresh. I had a rough design worked out in my mind and on graph paper, but nothing turned out as I thought. I found that weaving on a small scale is probably as hard or harder than working on a larger piece. 

 

Warping the loom

Warping in place.

Tying in the edges.

First few rows of weft in place.

I found that maintaining straight lines was harder than I thought.

The loom all ready for weft.

I knew it would not be easy, but every step proved harder than I thought it would be. I cannot remember how many times I had to backtrack, take out and redo lines of weft to correct mistakes.

Ready to come out of the loom

The finished rug. Raven and Turtle

I now marvel at how perfect Linda’s first effort turned out with smooth, flawless lines and how crude, rough and strange my own rug came out. But I learned a lot. The greatest wisdom might be knowing that weaving is just as hard or harder than I thought. My respect and admiration for the weavers who create beautiful tapestries of wool has grown even more. In a another few weeks when my back and shoulder have fully recovered, I might be ready to try again. This time it will be a wee bit larger, the design will be worked out in advance but I will still take my time. I am 78, but why not learn a new skill and practice a new hobby—at least until the yarn runs out?