Why Bother Handweaving?

I started threading last Thursday afternoon, so it's been a week since I last sat here. I can't go faster than two hours per inch, particularly when tradesmen keep coming and going, but that's a good thing; the tile man and the plumber were here today. Not so great that I worked at least a good half day and got only two and a half inches threaded, though. This warp at 96EPI is 16 inches wide, so 25 hours to go.

I'm trying this new thing sitting between the back beam and the back of the heddles, on a tiny fold-up fishing chairs. I find that even with the breast and the knee beams removed, standing or sitting on different height chairs, if I'm in front of the heddles, my arms are never long enough to work comfortably, and my eyes must work harder to focus. This new method seems to be working so far, though I'm mindful of the number of ends and the hassle of correcting mistakes, and I'm proceeding slowly.

And since this is such a slow process, I can't help contemplating once again what Randy Darwall asks; and I'll paraphrase in my typically simplistic way: "why bother handweaving?"

I might like the colors in this warp, though would you believe I'm not a gradation girl? And maybe this is not going to be a scarf, so it' doesn't matter these cottons have a steely feel, but it limits the use a bit. I'm happy for myself I'm finally weaving in the scale, (I think that's what I mean) I've always wanted to, but what's the merit of me sitting in that cramped space threading sewing threads for days on end? This could definitely be done quickly in a mill, and won't they produce a more evenly woven cloth? Why did I decide to weave this kind of a warp and what am I aiming to achieve? Better yet, what am I going to make? And I have no answer.