When I was growing up, my grandmother could always be counted on to give me some sort of creative and/or educational gift for Christmas. One year I got a plaster cast of a full set of teeth and a giant toothbrush along with a lesson on proper brushing technique. The teeth were held together with a rubber band so you could really get at the inside of those molars. She was a dental hygienist. For the record, I have never had a cavity.

Aside from the plaster teeth, there is one other gift that stands out:  a loom. It was made of plastic and quite sturdy, and I think it must have been a basic rigid heddle type loom, though I can't recall. I'm guessing I was six or seven when gifted with this glimpse into my future. Little did I know it would come back to me almost 30 years later.

Recently my mother came across my first weaving project which you can see here. She wrapped it up and sent it along to me with a note that said I was destined to become a weaver. I see now where that saving stuff problem I have comes from, and now I have justification as to why it's ok. Thanks, Mom!  

Here you can see where I artfully tied two weavings together to create a wall hanging that only a mother could love. Again, thanks, Mom.

So how is it that I came back to weaving? That is a story for another day. Or maybe later today.