In a corner of every house we have lived in since I was old enough to walk there has been a little wooden table with elaborate iron legs and an interesting looking carved hood. It has been a resting place for piles of junk, a spot for one of my naughty sisters to scratch her name with a pair of scissors (though she did this everywhere - including the woodchip wallpaper in the stairwell of our childhood home), and most lately the perfect location for another of my naughty sisters to hide a bag of her dirty washing for an entire year. And yet since it has been in my mother's possession, not once has it been used for its proper purpose. So I decided to clear a space in my miniscule flat and comandeer it:
Behold! My beautiful new acquisition - a Singer 201K treadle sewing machine. Yes it may be very old and quite rusty...and I had to spend an entire day cleaning and oiling it just to get it to move...and it still doesn't technically work yet...but despite all of this I heart it a lot.
I do have a sewing machine already - a beige and brown plastic 1970s jobbie that my mum gave me when she upgraded a number of years ago - but it is so ugly that I have to keep it in the garage since I have no cupboard space left inside, and it is such a palava to get it out whenever I want to use it that more often than not I just leave it where it is and stitch things (rather wonkily) by hand out of pure laziness and fear of its speed. Despite the fact that both my mother and grandmother are excellent seamstresses, I am not particularly gifted when it comes to using a sewing machine, so I thought that if I had a simple, slow, sturdy vintage affair I would have less opportunity to go wrong. Plus it looks so lovely that I can keep it out all the time meaning it will always be ready to use, therefore encouraging me to make more things. Once I get it working again of course.
At the moment it seems to do everything but pick up the bobbin thread, so you are left with what looks like a line of topstitch, until you pick it up and find it is not actually attached to anything...any advice on what might be causing this would be much appreciated! I think a trip to the Singer doctor in town may be on the cards.