The past has always captivated me. When I was 12, I pursued archaeology by excavating my backyard with a spoon and an old toothbrush. In high school, my interests shifted from ancient Egypt to medieval Europe, ultimately resulting in a master’s degree and doctoral work in medieval history.

Throughout, I have been drawn to the elemental foundations of living: food, animals, and clothing. I’ve made recipes from classical Rome, medieval England, and colonial America. I raise Cotswold sheep, a breed likely brought to Britain by the Romans 2,000 years ago. And what touches me most deeply, at a level I can’t explain, are textiles and the fiber and yarn from which they are made.

Cloth and its creation form a continuous link with the past, through millennia and across the globe. The Industrial Revolution of the late 18th century marked only a very recent change in how yarn was spun and fabric woven and knitted. But despite its relative newness, industrialization has weakened our connection with the people of our past and of our present, devaluing essential elements of our daily lives.

Textiles were once valued so highly that they were itemized in wills and passed from generation to generation. They had meaning. They gave meaning. They were part of tradition.