Memories of a Rag Rug.

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Tucked away in my needlework box is a rug hook. It hasn't been used for years and I doubt that I will ever use it again, but it has sentimental value. Years ago when re-cycling was done as a matter of course, in times more austere than these, my mother used to make rag rugs. The material used was old clothes and they had to be cut into short lengths and hooked into some kind of webbing which formed the base of the rug. Cutting the material was a long and painful business with scissors that had seen better days. The satisfactory part was hooking the material through the webbing and gradually seeing a rug emerge. Some women were rather artistic in the arrangements of the various colours and types of material used and the rugs were strong and lasted for many years. I remember one story of a house being bombed in WW2 and the rug being found in good shape some distance away. When I had my own home I decided to make a rug for myself. By then wool cut into lengths was available and the base was coloured in a design that was easy to follow. It was a luxury item compared with the ones I knew as a child. I still remember the soft pile and the half moon shape of my rug which I placed in front of the fireplace. The hook I have in my needlework box was used to make that particular rug decades ago, hence the nostalgia. Holding it in my hands again I feel a stirring to put it to use once more...