Today I am writing a love letter to a loom that I’m hoping will come into my life. I realize it might not make sense to anyone else, so this post may seem odd, but I’m okay with that.
Dear sweet loom,
We’ve never met, but I already know that I love you. I’ve heard so much about Mr. Brown, the man who was your birth father, and about your adopted mother, Sally Jane. They both sound like such cool people that I never got to meet. I’m so sorry that Sally Jane has gone now to the great weaving workshop in the sky. You must miss her nimble fingers, her bright eyes beholding your lovely wooden frame. I’m eager to hear about all the fun you two had together, the precious things you made working as a team. I’m just waiting to hear your secrets and see your sweet face for the first time.
I know that right now is a sad time in your life, hanging out in Jean’s cold garage, and my heart is reaching out to you. You’re less than a mile away! I long to meet you, to reassure you that you will soon have a good home. I want to bring you inside here where it’s nice and toasty. If you come live here, you will get a new big sister, Suzie, and I will give you a nice warming rub down and get you all decked out in a beautiful brand new warp. There’s a fun workshop coming up in April to learn about weaving with color, and if you come live with me, we will have such a great time together there and at other classes, too. I know there is so much I can learn from you and with you. Just think of the adventures we could have. It makes my heart sing to think about the possibilities.
Please come to me, little loom. Let’s make some magic cloth. Let’s play and have fun. Let’s bask in the sunlight together and become lifelong friends. I already love you, even though we haven’t met yet. Come to your new home, little loom. I’ll make you a nice comfy spot where we can hang out and get to know each other. I think in time you might decide that you can love me, too.
Wishing you sweet textile dreams on this cold night,
Love,
Darcy
{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }
If I were a loom, I’d want to be with you too.
Aw thanks, Elise, I love you!
I agree with Elise! Adopt me, too, Darcy!
Elizabeth, you’re too sweet.
What loom could resist your charms, Darcy? I hope he/she (do looms come in different genders?) is part of your household very soon.
Wow, thanks, Molly! And to think I thought this post was too goofy to publish. Yes, I think that looms can be different genders, why not?
Oh, little loom, I’m still thinking about you so much. Your feet must be freezing. I wish the adoption process could be hurried along.
Except I keep hearing the Lewis Carroll poem in my head: “Soup, beautiful soup…”
I think it’s hilarious that you felt the need to preface this entry with a disclaimer! It’s so perfectly sweet and delightful–and self-explanatory. Not the least bit weird. May your loom come your way, and soon.
Amy, thank you. I am honestly mouth agape over here at the generous warm response to this post. Thanks, everyone! You can all be honorary godmothers to the loom when I adopt her
Um, yeah, I think she’s a she. Just a hunch.
Elise, I don’t know the poem, I’ll have to look it up. Or you could do a little Evoca recording
Thanks, Lisa! Man, y’all are awesome. The hoping comes from my adopting not having been confirmed yet by the temporary foster mom. I’ll see her tomorrow, and you can bet I will be asking when she’ll know. The specific loom is identified, for sure.
Do you hear me, little loom? I am talking about you. Look at all these nice aunties you will have if you come live with me. Come home, come home!