Back in October of 2018, I was talking to my husband about the mythical weave shed that I imagined for myself. I may have been talking about it for the past several years, to the point where the myth was taking a very definite shape in my mind. In October, we both started talking about it as if it were a real thing, and it was just that simple – one of us said “we could actually do it, you know” and the plan started to take shape.

So, Berwick Weaving Company now has an actual building to itself, and I could not be happier. Have you ever made something happen, from dream-to-actuality, and at the end of it realize that you have literally made your dream come true?

I have, and it’s terrific.

The road to the studio, from when we hired someone to when it was finished, was surprisingly short. We got quotes in October/November, and they started the building process in January. Working through a wet and windy wintertime, the studio emerged in about 4 months. They were quiet, respectful, and responsive. I am happy with our builder, Bentley Built Homes. It may be the first weave studio they’ve built, but it may not be their last.

Before, and after.

It wasn’t always entirely smooth, but putting it all in perspective the process was remarkably freer of angst and stress than I had expected. The building is so quiet, and such a difference from the old weave room that looked out over a busy street! It’s warm, sturdy, and peaceful. It’s tucked in underneath my favorite old maple tree, and looks remarkably like it’s been there for ages already (though I do need to do some landscaping).

It took about a week to move everything in and organize it all – organization was always my biggest worry, because weaving comes with a lot of gear. But I’ve been in the studio, working, for about 3 or 4 days now, and I really couldn’t be happier. The efficiency one gets from knowing where everything is in a space, from everything having a place, is valuable.

The studio is not a retail space; it’s really just a more private and efficient space for me to work. I do plan on setting up a studio tour maybe, and as always if people want to visit they can message me through Berwick Weaving Co.’s facebook page or email me and set something up. I am “open by chance” – no set hours.

For those of you interested in that storage I keep talking about:

These shelves are terrific. Taking advantage of the 10 foot high ceilings, the shelf is eight feet high, and eight feet wide. Twelve inch deep shelves, so I don’t lose anything behind something else. I was shocked at the amount of fibre I actually had – in the old weave room everything was compressed, or boxed, so I had no real idea until I took it all out there and started sorting! I love it, and every time I look at it, I am inspired. I find it so useful to have it all out, and in view.

Some weavers keep their fibre stored in plastic boxes, or tubs. I just can’t do it. This will require more dusting than if I’d chosen to do that, but it’s worth it.

On the other side of the room, I chose to repurpose shelves I’d had made for my in-house weave room. I’m very happy I did – I love the look of them, and the cubbies will prove useful.

I’ve managed to fit all the looms in, save one small rigid heddle loom I decided to keep in the house. It’s a convenient size to use in front of the tv, or in the sitting room.

I found a place for my beloved mangle, and put a good sized table in as a workspace, or for (future, planned) teaching space.

I love this space, and am over the moon with it. I look forward to many happy hours in there. Thanks for taking this journey with me.

Mopping up, sweeping out, starting fresh.

We’ve had a bit of Spring cleaning at Berwick Weaving Co.   About a month and a half ago now, we returned from our trip to Belize.  It was cold, as Nova Scotia can be in late January, but the ground was clear of snow. It was kind of great. We felt like that snow-less arrival was a bit of a gift.

Then the snows came. And came again. And again. It was an extraordinary amount of snow.


Look, see how pretty?

It was pretty at first. The novelty made it okay. Then it snowed again. And again. The picture below is my “Weavery”*  right before it started leaking from the infernal ice dams (please see poll, below).



That was kind of funny, until it all started to leak into my Weavery. Onto my loom. At seemingly random times, and with surprising volume.


So sad. So… Miss Havisham’s Loom Room. Boo.

I have commissions I’m working on, commissions that are difficult to do while underneath plastic, to the steady drip…drip…drip of the ice dam damage.  Water and looms are not natural friends.

While I wrung my hands and moaned and gnashed my teeth, better people than I climbed onto the roof, under the roof, and then did it again and again, until we think it is solved for the moment. I will have to do a ton of work, later in the year – new drywall, ceiling (and possibly roof) repair. Repainting. Cleaning.  It’s a big fat drag. Houses that are 116 year old have charm, but require a lot of work.

There ARE good things that came out of this. I had to look at my workspace with a fresh eye. I realized that it was trying to be a sitting room/weavery – a nice idea, but not really practical in such a little room. Also, I have been refurbishing a new-to-me Mira loom (sectional warping beam!) that I got last summer – it was ready to move into the Weavery and earn its keep. A flurry of activity, some creative problem-solving, and the Weavery is now home to my Millville and the Mira looms both.


THIS is a kick-ass weave room. See the Mira, at 1 o’clock. Such a cute little thing!

I have been cleaning and organizing (and watching the ceiling) and I am almost sure that it will not leak any more. I took the plastic off and hope to return to my regularly schedule weaving program asap.  Phew! One cannot live by rigid heddle alone….

* Re. “Weavery”.  I like the term – I borrowed it from somewhere online. But it feels a bit… twee.  What the heck do I call this room?