I am the honoured but slightly alarmed recipient of a loom. A friend has given me his late wife's beautiful loom, built after the Finnish style, and it is currently being erected like a small edifice in my newly-spare room. It is like watching a house being built, it is so intricate and clever in the way it fits together. However, I am aware that, once put together, it isn't going anywhere, so I have to learn to weave to justify the effort...and the space it's taking up.
I look at all the dangling gizmos and can't quite figure out the mechanics of it. I will have to look up the local guild and find a teacher. And it's missing a couple of bits and bobs which I hope to find at the flea market or online.
A challenge. Something new to learn, which I love. A harking back to my weaver ancestor in Scotland (though he likely worked in a factory, not his bedroom). Something to use larger motor skills, since I'm slowly losing the finer ones. Something to help fend off dark days in winter, when gardening isn't available to combat the depression. If nothing else, a stride toward self-reliance and a bit of eccentricity...and I'm sure it will crop up in my writing at some future point.
A wonderful gift.