Today was set aside to finally deal with the yearly tax paperwork... and hooray, it's almost done. A few last checks to make sure nothing stupid has happened (like last year, when I managed to put a large number in the wrong field, messing up about... everything) and then it can go off, so that part of the yearly Bureaucracy Worship is done and dusted. 

Which also means that I'll be able to go back to all the other (nicer, and more interesting) jobs to do tomorrow. One of the other things I did today was harvesting the last of the woad seeds outside - after snapping a picture first:

I really like how they look, those seeds. They are somewhere between purple, black, and brown in colour, and they can even be slightly iridescent. The flowers are nice, but rather small and yellow, and the leaf rosette is pretty, but to me, the seeds are the most spectacular aspect of the woad plant. 

The only reason I don't leave them on the plant until they fall off is, obviously, the shop - because if you want to sell the seeds, you have to harvest them... and now this year's crop is available.  

If you're following me on Instagram, you might have seen photos of my Trusty Red Suitcase - one of my premium travel companions. (Technically, it's probably an item, but it is a) so important and b) so large that it counts as a companion. At least I think so.) 

We bought this suitcase about 6 years ago, and it has been my go-to luggage hauler for a good number of work trips by train and, occasionally, even by plane. It is large, and lightweight, and it came with four little wheels and when you gave it a push, it went "wheeeee" all through the room until it hit some wall somewhere.

That went for a while, and then somehow, it didn't go "wheeeeee" anymore. Quite to the contrary - it became rather hard to push or pull. Some closer examination quickly showed the reason: The plain bearings of the wheels had given up. They'd been made from plastic, and three of them had worn out, and the fourth had, at some place, gotten so warm through friction that it had half molten (so the wheel still hung in there, but quite lopsidedly). 

Quite clearly, the makers of these wheels had not intended them to run for several kilometers through city streets and train stations, bearing a suitcase with a weight of about 30 kg (which is the maximum of what I can still handle, and which also ends up being the total weight more often than not). Probably most buyers of that kind of suitcase don't go "oh, well, I have time enough, the weather is nice, I've just spent 5 hours sitting on a train, and it's just three kilometers to the hotel, I think I'll walk." (Which is how the little suitcase has racked up the kilometers.)

So... also quite clearly, something needed to be done. Wheels made for heavy duty were bought, with proper ball bearings, and got installed by the Most Patient Husband of All Time (whose patience did get tested, as the modifications necessary were quite a few). And then, lo and behold! the suitcase went "wheeeeeeee!" again when pushed. (So much that at some point it got little stopper wedges to secure it on the train.)

But now, on the way back home from the trip to Berlin... it lost one of its wheels. 

Apparently, not only the wheels in their original version were not intended to go for long rolls... there's also a limit to what the anchoring of said wheels would take. And, quite clearly now, that limit did not include hopping the suitcase up and down curbs while weighing, ah well, you know. (There's a technique to really easily get the suitcase to hop on a curb, provided that is not too high, but it's probably not the most, erm, gentle on the wheels. As you approach the curb, you give the suitcase an impulse by pulling on the handle so that the front wheels come up into the air, and then once they come down again and hit the ground on top of the curb, you do the same in reverse to lift up the back wheels. Works fabulously.)

I went back to search for the wheel that had gone AWOL, but couldn't find it again, and did not want to cut it too close with my train, so with a heavy heart, I abandoned it in Berlin Main Train station, somewhere on the way to platform 1 in the basement. 

Its companion on the same side of the suitcase also wobbles a little... which means there will be some more Frankensteining of my little-not-so-little red travel companion soon. We're considering the installation of some metal plates to make it a bit more sturdy. And then I'll be looking forward to many more years strolling through train stations, and faraway cities, with it!

After putting it off again and again, I've finally sat down today and did the long-overdue update of the website again. In the end, it wasn't as bad as I had feared, but, ah, there's always something that gets toasted with a larger update... or something that quietly, with a short sizzling sound, fried itself a while before and then you do an update and discover that something is not looking like it should, or doing what it should. Plus... that it might have been in that state for a while as well!

So, long story short: The last slightly larger shop update that I did, a good while ago by now, totally fried all the template tunings that I had done when doing the migration to the newest Joomla version. That was a lot of work just made useless, and it irked me quite a bit. However, there was no time at that point to sit down and re-do all of it for the new version, so I only did a few tweaks to remedy the worst issues, tried for functionality, and then decided that ugly (or at least not looking like I had imagined) and functioning would be good enough, and is definitely better than theoretically beautiful but offline or looking nice but not working.

Today I was feeling a little brain-dead inbetween, and in that state I figured that it would be a great idea to do the site update. Because, as we all totally know, figuring out website stuff needs no brains at all, right? Yes, exactly. 

Of course clicking the correct buttons in the correct order (backup first, then updates of the extensions, then update of the system) doesn't need much brain power. But afterwards, it's time to check if everything works as it should, and looks as it should, and figure out what needs to be done where in case it doesn't. Which... well. You can probably imagine that these tasks do require some of the grey matter to be online, and a neuron or two here or there able and willing to shoot an impulse somewhere... 

Fortunately my little bout of frustration was remedied by a cup of coffee and some uplifting words from the Most Patient Husband of Them All (who also thinks that not-looking-perfect-but-functioning is a fine state), and then I sat down again with a bit more brain power.

And instead of trying, as I did the last time, to re-do the template more or less from scratch... this time, after the update removed my tweaks, I did some more tweaking in a similar manner, and now it's looking acceptable again, or at least I think so. Hopefully I've also managed, this time, to place stuff into the correct override folder so it will not have to be re-done next time.

And while I was at it, I've also updated the Textile Forum website (which was not that far behind, version-wise...) and finished sending out the latest Forum newsletter. Now I sort of feel on top with the technical stuff again - so tomorrow, I can get back to all the other, not-so-technical stuff!

Here I am, back home - after having a lovely time at Düppel for the textile day on Sunday!

It was an absolute pleasure to show and tell about distaff spinning, and have some people join me to give this wonderful technique a try. The weather was sunny and warm, but fortunately there was always a little bit of shade to stand in. There were lots and lots of interesting questions by visitors, and at one point I was even taking a group of them further back into history... to starting out textile works (or proto-textile works) with plant fibres and splicing. It was a fortunate coincidence that some nettle plants grew behind my stall.

It was also the first time that I did distaff spinning with a "join in and try" stall. It did work satisfactorily - but has shown me, once more, how important good conditions are for teaching. There is a reason why the amount of participants for a workshop is limited, and why I much, much prefer having a nice closed room to doing a workshop outside, even though it may be nice and pleasant to be outdoors, and I generally enjoy being outside a lot. Distractions are a thing, and do have an impact on the learning curve. 

Apart from that extra bit of added difficulty, there were the usual problems when learning how to spin with a distaff - some of them easier to solve than others. One issue is always movement of the distaff (which is easier to remedy when I have the very large clamps that I bring to workshops, and that I could not bring to the Middle Ages, due to obvious reasons). Another very common issue is problems with remembering which direction the spindle is turning, and that's something that I've not yet found a solution for. (Sometimes I have left-handed people in the workshop who have been re-trained to use the right hand in their childhood, and they often have this issue. But it's not limited to them, and makes the whole thing really hard.) 

It was a lot of fun, and also an opportunity to try slightly different methods for teaching and explaining, and now I can feel the back of my brain processing everything and trying to see if there's things to change for better teaching in the future... because you never stop learning.

I've been delving into fabrics (well, images and descriptions of them) for a current project - and I am once more amazed at the colours, patterns, and complicated weaves of the Middle Ages. So many different possibilities offered by silks and human ingenuity, it really is mind-boggling.

Tomorrow will hopefully see one more step of this research and request part of the project done and dusted - and after sending that off, I will be packing for the event in Düppel on Sunday. 

I'll be in the "Museumsdorf" with my spinning equipment, and if you are close to Berlin, stop by, say hello, and have a go at spinning with spindle and distaff if you feel so inclined! 

Because I'll be working on the weekend, and will be travelling back on Monday, the next blog post will be on Tuesday. Have a nice weekend everybody!

And we go on with the series of CfPs - this time, it's sort of on my own behalf:

I am very happy to announce that the Call for Papers for the European Textile Forum 2023 is now open!

We will look into "Dimensions of Dyeing: Colours, Mordants, Processes."
The European Textile Forum in 2023 will take place in Mayen, Germany, in the Laboratory for Experimental Archaeology (part of the Leibniz Research Institute for Archaeology), November 6 to November 12. It is a small conference which aims to explore archaeological and historical textiles in both theory and practice. For this, we combine paper presentations and workshops or practical sessions on the paper's topic. These practical parts are either led by the presenter, for instance to teach a reconstructed method or technique and have the rest of the participants try it, or they can take more of a "community brainstorming" form, if the method is not yet known. With this combination, we also want to connect practical specialists and theoretical specialists.

This year it is time to look at colours and dyeing. Colours played an important part in historical textiles. Bright colours did not only show off wealth, they could also have symbolic meanings. Dyeing processes can range from very simple, with little knowledge and effort needed, to very complex, just as the dyestuff can be very cheap - such as leaves or walnut husks - to extremely expensive, such as Murex snails for true purple. At the Forum in 2023, we want to look at the many dimensions of dyes, dyeing processes, and the use of colour in textiles - including special cases such as the re-use of coloured textiles to make painting pigments, or the use of paints to colour textiles. Mordants and their role in dyeing should, of course, not be forgotten.

We'd like to invite you to do a presentation or workshop, or both, to explore the different procedures, tools, and materials related to mordanting and dyeing or otherwise colouring textiles. Work space outside and inside is available, so it will be possible to dye on open fire, or indoor using heating plates or similar equipment. Presentations can be between 15 and 45 minutes, with workshop time or time for practical exploration afterwards as necessary.
For more information, take a look at the full Call for Papers on our website. Registration for the conference is also open now, and you can find the registration form here.

Please do also pass this Call for Papers on to others who might be interested - thank you!

Just in case you'd like to see some medieval textiles... there's a 9th century manuscript, written in Mainz and in the care of the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek that has been digitised.

The really nice thing about it? (Well, apart from the fact that it's a really beautiful old book, with miniatures.) This book still has its curtains. That are pieces of fabric sewn to the pages to protect, or maybe hide, or maybe both, the illuminations - reminding me a bit of the spidery translucent paper that is used in photo albums. (Except in this MS, it looks to me like the fabric is not attached, but only placed between the pages. Hm.)

Anyways - this book still has its curtains (a lot of them were removed at some point from manuscripts, and have either gotten lost or are kept separately), and they were also digitised, and that means you can zoom in on beautiful medieval silk fabrics. 

Here, for example. There's a number of pages with curtains, and it all seems to be the same fabric. It looks like a selvedge at the top and the bottom, which would make it a relatively narrow strip of woven fabric, and there's hems with sometimes discernible stitches at the right and left side.