It is mine

My husband has put his foot down.
His foot has ended up on a rug I managed to bring back from Finland this summer. 
My grandfather wove the rag rug, he was a master at weaving rag rugs.
The colours of the rug are still quite fresh, even though it must be over sixty years old, probably older.
And now it is mine!
I have renovated it in a few places. And luckily I can do it myself because I used to weave in my younger days. And have an education in it. 
Unfortunately I have no place for a loom anymore. But life can be lived anyway. 
And it feels much better now that I have got hold of my grandfather's rag rug.