I'm currently reading Lucy Morgan's fascinating memoir, Gift From the Hills, recounting the early history of The Penland School, and was particularly struck by the story of Leila Woody and her coverlet. Ms. Woody, a thrifty weaver, had been given a bag of loopers, a waste product of the hosiery industry. She unravelled a few loopers and found that each one yielded at least 18 yards of cotton yarn. She proceeded to unravel ten at a time and (presumably with a paddle) wound a warp of 1,080 ends, ten ends at a time, you guessed it, 18 yards long. For weft she used the same yarn, singles and plied both, and wove a coverlet in honeycomb structure. Additional ravelings provided the fringe.
Fast forward to twenty years ago, when a friend who was transitioning from weaver to painter gave me a stash of silk buttonhole thread—an enormous stash (thank you, Nancy). I've been storing this thread in my studio for all these years, and never know quite what to do with it. Here is a small part of the stash:

Each box contains 12 wooden spools of silk buttonhole thread, 10 yards per spool. Most of the thread is from one dye lot of cerise. But occasionally a purple will show up unexpectedly.

And there are a few boxes of acid yellow, and a few odd spools of gray.

A light bulb went on today. There is more than enough silk here for a warp for my new project, scarves with an interleaved warp of cerise silk and yellow mercerized cotton. I am making it 9 1/2 yards long, so that I have enough to tie knots from one spool to the next.

It's a bit fiddly to tie on a new spool at every beginning and ending peg on the warping board, but I'm soldiering on.

I think Leila Woody would have cheered me on.