Holding Fast...

This post is coming to you from the deep recesses of my memory. It's really funny sometimes when you're doing the most mundane task how a distant memory, or a series of them, so vivid, come crashing on through. So, I ordered some reusable carpet gripper strips from Amazon for our kitchen rugs. Augie's nightly games of run and fetch the ____________ (you can fill in the blank~ ball, chew toy, stuffed animal, whatever...) ultimately send the rugs flying out of position; his low center of gravity is designed for fast cornering and sliding; he's an expert. I was sitting on the floor and attaching the strips to the backside of the rugs and I remembered my grandmother hand stitching mason jar rings to the bottom of her braided rugs. She had those rugs all over her home, she made them herself. Her sister, Alma, had a husband (my great Uncle Len) who was the manager of the Homestead Woolen Mill in West Swanzey, NH. 

When the looms would finish a run the end pieces were cut off and pitched; long strips of woven wool in every color and hue, were rendered unusable by the mill. My Uncle was able to collect these and furnish not only my Aunt Alma, but also my grandmother, with an endless supply of discarded strips for braiding rugs. My grandmother had a brown cardboard box in the front hall closet, it must have stood four feet high, filled to the brim with strips of wool. I do recall her sitting and folding those raw edges to the inside as she tightly braided three chosen strips neatly together. It seemed like she had a clamp or some kind of device that separated the strips as they came from the box but I don't have a clear recollection of that. This Mill closed in 1985, my Uncle had long-since retired from here by that time.

This is me at my grandmother's house, I believe I'm two years old here. Check out the braided rug. Rugs like this one, as I mentioned before, were everywhere at my grandmother's house. I suppose those jar rings were grippy enough to hold these rugs fast, she was most likely anchoring them to keep me from sending them sliding here or there when I tore through her house like a wild animal in those days! 

Fast forward to today. Sadly, I have no idea whatever happened to those lovingly hand-crafted rugs that my grandmother made but I'm still partial to the look and style. These machine made versions are the closest I could get. Much to Augie's dismay he can't manage to send this one flying anymore when he skids in for a stop after a game of fetch. Those new grippy strips are holding fast, as am I, to the memories...

Life is Good!