Call Me Pot

While on the island, I spent a wonderful afternoon visiting with Kathleen and Eva. As with most of our visits, talk quickly turns to fiber (along with food).  Kathleen mentioned that she was about to buy yet another loom.  And we all laughed at how Kathleen tends to go overboard with her acquisitions. This will be her 7th loom, I think. I don’t remember the exact number, but it was a lot.

Eh-hem. This time, Kathleen turned the tables on me. Hmm. “How many looms do you have, Ann?” Huh. I stopped to count…then I asked, do you count rigid heddle looms? Of course. So, here it is:

That’s 7 looms.  And these don’t include the old Leclerc Dorothy Table Loom that is on permanent loan to Deborah, the navajo weaving frame, the inkle/card weaving looms, nor the miscellaneous hand held looms.

Yikes! As Kathleen said, I can’t say I’m not a weaver anymore.  Or maybe I could. I don’t weave. I just collect looms.

Sigh. Just call me Ms. Pot.