The wind blew across the sands. The winds of change, I hoped. The sun bore down heavily on us. Not a tree in the distance. The shrubs, dry and desolate, still, despite the warm breeze. My two sons and I made our way to the market. Our wares rode along with us on our bicycle as we walked. We were going to give in the orders we had recently finished.
Being weavers, we had all begun weaving young. The skill we picked up naturally, planted in us. I had just finished the ninth grade when father began urging me to take up weaving full time. There was no time for school and play. I had to do it. It was work, and what else could I do.
Not long after, I began liking it. Design, colours, patterns, kept me going. A national merit award pushed my work.
With local as well as foreign markets, I have been getting more orders. Wool works well abroad and I am on the lookout for more for a foreign market. We work from home and take the highs and lows in our stride, my two boys and I. As time goes by we work hard and even harder at times, we want no obstacles to come our way.
