Can't Make Me

It happens every time I start to get overloaded with deadlines:  If I'm supposed to be knitting, then all I want to do is spin.  If I'm supposed to be writing, then all I want to do is knit.  If I'm supposed to be taking down the Christmas tree, then all I can think about is weaving.  I know how this works: The minute authority has been established, usually in the form of a time limit, I start to rebel.  Against my own strictures.  Can't help it - just do.

So there are 3 big things to knit on at the moment, and about 10 other small things.  And I'm writing a book.  And there are new classes to create.  And there are designs to pitch for the future, in order to keep having work to do.  About all of which I care deeply.  So deeply, in fact, that I am living in a constant state of near-panic.  But all I really want to think about are looms.

I am not a weaver.  I have drawn a line around my fiber obsession which I dare not cross.  There simply has to be a limit.  Time, Space, and Finance all clearly demarcate the stopping point.  I used to refuse to spin, for the same reasons.  And then some mean mean friend of mine made me pet the fluff, and hold the spindle, and the next thing I know I'm doing 25 rounds with Phillip about how much a spinning wheel doesn't cost.  See, it's a slippery slope.  One minute I'm "just trying" out some crappy garage sale homemade loom my friend is trying to rehabilitate (Me: "What could possibly go wrong?  I know I won't like this because this loom is an inferior tool, with which I know I will not be successful."  Fiber Gods: "Bwwaaah Ha Ha Ha Haaaaaa...."), and the next thing I know I have 27 new bookmarks in my web browser.

I blame my so-called friends.  I was really devoted to minding my own knitting business when Certain People *cough-Lisa-cough* had to go around setting up looms in Certain Other People's *cough-KT-cough* dining rooms, and now here I am: a potentially helpless slave to yet another fiber craft.  I blame these hooligans personally, and I'm warning them:  I know where you people live, and you have to sleep sometime.

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But I'm bigger than that.  I don't have to succumb, just because looms are so juicy and delicious.  I don't have to buckle, just because weaving is the next natural step in my fiber journey.  I don't have to love that there are so many ways to play with string, and I don't need to know about them all, just because it's my personal quest, and my hard-won profession.  Sure, there are bound to be months moments when I doubt my own resolve.  I just need reminding that there are many good reasons not to cave in.  Herewith; a list of spine-stiffeners I have come up with, for just such emergencies:

10 Reasons Why I Should Not Become A Weaver

10.   Children keep "borrowing" loom savings to trade for "entrees".

9.    Husband insists that hanging a rigid heddle loom from dining room chandelier between uses is not a feasible storage solution.

8.    People who say I will use up all my excess yarn stash are lying.  Everybody knows weavers are the worst string-hoarders in the world.  Ever notice that weaving yarn is sold by the POUND?

7.    Non-Fiber Personnel in my life likely to remind me that scarves are easily obtained from stores.  I've only just broken them of saying that about socks.

6.    Accumulated layers of handmade clothing on my body increase likelihood of being taken for a hobo.

5.    Invitations of "Won't you sit down?" to guests answered by "Where?".

4.    Trunk of car unsatisfactory weaving studio.

3.    Ditto Powder Room, though embarrassingly plausible.

2.    Closing skills loop between spinning, knitting, sewing and weaving further endangers my motivation to leave house.  I'm only 6 or 7 cats away from full-on Wierdy status as it is.

1.    Only remaining fiber skill left to declare off-limits is Macrame.