My wife is trying to curb her habit.Not kick it, not cold turkey . . . she has five of the things, which limits her to only four hours and about fifty minutes a day on each, and that doesn\'t leave time for sleeping or cooking . . . or me, for that matter.
So . . . that\'s why you\'re looking at this. You, it would appear, are not trying to curb (or kick) your habit.That\'s OK. Nobody\'s judging here. Believe me, I -do- understand. But, we both digress.
I\'ve sent an email to Trebon to get a birthdate (\'scuse me) . . . date of manufacture for this glorious machine. I dusted a pinch of Clabber Girl baking powder into the number stamp, and that is the first time we\'ve been certain of the number since we adopted (\'scuse me) bought her (rats!) it. It!
We understand from the wife\'s weaving teacher that this loom was probably part of the veterans\' rehabilitation project in Springfield, Missouri, after WW-II. Also the lady we bought the loom from said her husband used to weave on it. (I\'m not a weaver, I\'m a woodworker, you understand.)
Oh, yes; my wife will get the money from this sale. I know you had that question simmering. This was her idea. I enabled her getting it; I\'m supporting her kicking (selling!) it.
The red board with the bazillion twisted wires is a spool holder. It\'s never been set up here. There are maybe two missing wires, but you can figure out how to repurpose a coat hanger probably better than we could.
We have (she has) a box with a warp thread spreader, a lease stick, four fabric shuttles, a pair of mystery-challenger screw clamps, a wicked-looking T-handled hook, a stiff-bristled brush, and a bag of miscellaneous nuts, bolts, and screws.
We will help you get it out the front door of our house. It\'s big; it\'s cumbersome; it\'ll have to come apart. I reassembled the beast by looking a photos on the internet, so bring your own phone, and take your own photos. You\'ll thank me for that.
Paypal is good; a bank check is good; cash is good. Whatever works. You can even hand it to my wife.

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