A high school friend of mine recently took up weaving on a big loom. She posted a picture of her first completed project: a set of placemats made with bamboo warp and scraps of fabric she'd saved up over the years. It reminded me of a time I went to visit my Uncle Tom and Aunt Sandra in Illinois.
The summer I turned 12, I was invited to stay with them for two weeks to help take care of my two little cousins. I'm not sure I was particularly responsible, but I tried my best. It's entirely possible that we watched too much television because I wasn't a very imaginative babysitter.
My aunt Sandra had several looms and loved weaving wool that she carded, dyed, and spun herself. One day she sent us out to gather wild flowers from the fields around their house and flowers that grew in her garden. She boiled them up in big pots on the stove to dye the wool.
I will never forget the way it smelled.