It was fun filling those big bobbins with long strips of fabric and then watching as they flew back and forth across the loom leaving a trail of the fabric strips behind them, woven into the rug. Aunt Emma would let us try to help her on the loom but it was much harder than it looked when she did it so I was content simple watching and listening to the delightful clackity bangs as she made rug after rug.
She sold a lot of rugs in my parents store and when I was preparing things for my own home she was more than happy to make all the rugs in every color I wanted. By the time she was done I had everything I needed and more. A whole set of blue rugs, a few pink, several made with plastic grocery bags to use in the basement or our front porch, I had rugs that matched the colors for every room of the house. And then a pile to use for special occasions which included several all white ones.
I still have a pile of rugs I never even used including the white ones. Somehow they always seemed too pretty to actually walk on and so they stay tucked away.
Aunt Emma still makes rugs, I would love to spend a day watching her once again.