Village Squire, 1978-01, Page 8A most
rernarkab le
woman
BY
ADRIAN VOS
Muffled thuds are coming from the big kitchen -cum -dining -
room. Sometimes the sounds are rhythmic and sometimes
somewhat irregular. When we peak into the room, we see that
the thumping comes from the loom, where a woman is weaving
patterns into a rug she is making. As we look over her shoulder,
we see a pattern in mostly soft colours. In greens and yellows
and reds, as well as black, blue and grey. The weft is of the
purest wool and the colours are of the most delicate shades.
Later that same day, different sounds are coming from the
livingroom. We hear the sound of a television set and a sort of
humming sound. It is the same woman, this time spinning raw
wool into yarns. The wool slips through her fingers almost
mechanically, while she watches a favourite television program
at the same time. Sometimes she stops to card some more wool
into rolls or rolages, ready for spinning. When she has several
bobbins of spun wool, she plies the yarn together anti -clockwise,
in order to obtain the thickness she wants for her weaving.
But this is still white wool. Where does she get her colours?
She explains how in spring, summer and fall, she goes out into
the bush, the field and the roadside, to gather plants and
flowers, bark and lichens, to make her own natural dyes. Some
are dried for later use. Some are boiled immediately and the
resulting liquid is stored. Some are soaked, while others are used
on the wool immediately after boiling. All yield a different colour
dye. Ragweed, which gives so many sufferers hayfever, gives all
shades of yellow, gold and brown, depending on the type of
mordant used. Mordant, she explains, fixes the colour
permanently. Dandelion roots yield green, as do the thistles. She
6, VILLAGE SQUIRE/JANUARY 1978.
uses milkweed, goldenrod, marigolds and beets from her
garden. Oak bark and willow bark. The variation is endless, and
much of the art of producing rugs and saddle blankets, shoulder
purses and the many other products that come off her loom, is
dominated by how well she chooses her colours.
When she is not spinning or dyeing or weaving, she may be
doing macrame, the art of knotting in patterns. Or she may be
sitting quietly down with her tatting, a different way of knotting
thin thread into lace.
Sometimes she will hook a rug, or do some knitting, either by
hand or with a knitting machine.
On several occasions she has taken an old piece of furniture,
removed all old paint and varnish, with which so much older
furniture is spoiled, and returned it to its original state. In the
kitchen is a beautiful cupboard with carved doors, that was
thrown away by its former owner. Nov it catches the eye of
everyone who enters the house. In the hall is a love seat,
salvaged from the junkman, the like of which is hard to find,
completely restored and re -upholstered.
In the morning the house is quiet. No thumping of the loom or
humming of the spinning wheel. Just the soft chattering of the
budgie and the snoring of the two pug dogs. That is because she
may be out in the barn, helping with the chores for some five -or
six hundred pigs. Or she may be out in the vegetable garden,
planting or harvesting or experimenting with some new
vegetable.
Twice a year she takes her handiwork to a craft show, to offer
her products for sale to the public, a public that doesn't realize
most of the time, what a bargain they are offered
Who is this woman, you ask?
She is my wife. A most remarkable woman.