I like to darn clothes, particularly woollen socks and jerseys, if they develop holes. Fine merino garments are a bit more of a challenge. Wool is too thick, so I use cotton – or polyester thread (cotton thread is no longer available as far as I know) and a fine needle. This morning I darned a favourite fine merino top which, like many of my tops, had holes at the front above the hem. I wonder if these holes are caused by leaning on the kitchen bench. I’m trying to break that habit.

My darning is a bit clumsy, but satisfying to do. I do the horizontal threads first and then weave in and out vertically – the weft and warp. I’m reminded of the women weavers in a book I just finished called Unquiet Women by Max Adams. He writes of the huge weaving production barns in medieval times, often attached to country houses, where women sat in lines at many looms working long, hard hours. The making of linen was particularly demanding as the rendering of the flax into fibres for weaving was an exhausting and dirty job. The author quotes a woman’s will in which she carefully details items of clothing to be passed on to her surviving family members. It’s clear that clothing was well made and highly valued.

I am also reminded of the women I saw in Peru and Bolivia, spinning with drop spindles as they watched flocks of sheep and alpaca. Then would follow the dyeing and weaving and the cloth could be seen in the clothes they wore and at markets for sale. The cloth on these spoon dolls is faded (I’ve had them for over 40 years), but the female figure on the left is holding a drop spindle.

In a small way, my darning is part of a long tradition.