Triangle Loom Weaving

This is a proper triangle loom.  I first saw such a thing at last September's Spinning Camp and hurried home inspired to make one myself. Weaving on it was most satisfying, though mine wasn't a functional version for producing cloth.  

I was lent this one to weave the Portland yarn I spun while camping in June.  Using the triangle loom, the long colour changes in the humbug skeins mean that the warp comes up in sections of different colours, symmetrically mirrored by changes in the weft, as it crosses itself creating a variegated warp.  I see the result as a primitive version of tartan, though better informed weavers might not.

The yarn itself was not ideally suited to the job, being semi-woollen spun and not washed before weaving.  Sitting in a camping field on a windy evening, with the warp threads

catching on each other and fuzzing up as the weft was slid across to the other side, I was gritting my teeth, hanging on to the triangle loom on my lap and begining to think this a much mistaken effort.  Only the interest of finding that pattern emerging kept me weaving one more row, just to see.  Once I got home to more comfortable circumstances, I had the hang of it and finished quickly.  When the first triangle of fabric was hooked off the loom, I was so pleased I started the next

one straightaway.  The humbug yarn ran out just before I finished the second, but since by its nature, it harmonises with all the other skeins, I completed the triangle with parts of another two colours. Next, I used the skein of beige, and since I hadn't troubled to clean the drum carder between batts, that yarn had spun up with some more subtle colour changes giving another interesting weave pattern.  Finally, a fourth triangle

with a uniformly yellow yarn, which I am pretty certain was dyed with an afterbath of Dyer's Chamomile.
The four woven triangles were crocheted together along their long sides to make two squares, then round the outside for a couple of rows to give some depth before being put together to make a cushion cover.
Himself was very complimentary, liked the firm stuffing with waste wool and remarked we could do with two for the sofa.  Which set me thinking how much work

another cushion would be - buy the fleece, wash the fleece, mordant the fleece, grow the plants, pick the plants, simmer the dye baths, dye and dry the fleece, make the batts, spin the yarn, weave the triangles and crochet them up - don't think I could calculate how many woman hours that cushion represents.  Heaven help me if I had to furnish the house from scratch.  And what a disaster if some accident should befall my creation.