There was once a young girl (*cough cough*.... youthful woman) who had just moved back to Ireland after working in Montreal for a few years....

I found myself back on the jobs market in a small town that had been badly hit by the economic crash a number of years ago. I had been surrounded by a thriving artisan, bespoke, handmade and homemade small business scene in Montreal. I'd seen people making a living from the items they produced in their own home - I found it all really inspiring. Missing my old life, unemployed and waiting for things to pick up in my little Irish town, I decided to try my hand at weaving.

I took an old ikea picture, pulled the paper "canvas" from the frame and started hammering nails into it. Then I took a trip to the nearest fabric store and bought some balls of yarn and a couple of needles. My first attempt was horrible - bright purple, dark grey, lots of mistakes and hung from a piece of driftwood that looked like some bull horns I'd found at the beach a few days earlier. I sent pictures of it to a couple of friends and they thought I was practicing some sort of witchcraft.

I was determined not to give up, so I spent every spare minute weaving, practicing, teaching myself. I was turning out one wall hanging per day. Each day getting better and better, eventually deciding to open up shop and trying to sell my pretty little weaves to the world. I'm excited to see where the story will take me next....