Some months ago, I had a brief dalliance with a sewing machine from IKEA. I convinced myself that I would be more than capable of mastering the intricacies of this particular mechanical device adequately enough to hem a pair of trousers or to make rudimentary window coverings. ( What I produced could not be described as curtains and the trousers I hemmed by hand!) Despite my best efforts, the machine refused to cooperate with me. A thingamajig kept falling off causing a rise in blood pressure and more than a few choice words. This became the regular pattern whenever I decided to have another go. I knew things had gone too far when the dog hid and Jean took to the headphones as soon as the contraption was placed on the table. Long story short, in the interests of harmony in the home it went back to IKEA.
A few weeks ago I decided to have another go at the mysteries of sewing. Jean, bless her heart looked sideways at me and smiled a faint smile of encouragement, or it might have been resignation. Anyway, as you can see, I now have three sewing machines! “Why?” I hear you ask. “I have no bloody idea!” is my reply.
Machine number one was given to me by Jean’s sister who was clearing out a shed. “It probably doesn’t work.” She said. Confident beyond all reason I replied that it didn’t matter, I’d fix it! Jean merely rolled her eyes. After taking out nuts and screws, squirting WD40 into every nook and cranny and replacing said nuts and screws, the machine limped toward functioning, then stopped.
Not to be put off, I bought a handheld machine cheap on eBay. I have yet to try it on an actual garment, but its trial on a very thin scrap of material that came with it looks promising, and the dog didn’t hide when she saw it!
Machine number three, the Singer. This is what happens when you stroll idly by a Charity shop. There it was, in all its vintage glory, sitting in the window. The lady said, there’s no lead, and I can’t guarantee it’ll work. “That’s OK,” I said, “I’ll fix it!” Do words ever fall out of your mouth and surprise you? Anyway, I bought it. I arrived home and asked Jean to guess what I’d bought. She couldn’t, so I proudly carried in my new purchase. “Where’s the lead?” She asked. I explained that I was going to sort something out. She tried really hard to keep a straight face. I took myself and the Singer over to our cabin and set about “sorting something out.”
Two hours later I had the machine polished up and connected to the motor from machine number one, “(see above). I tentatively pressed the foot pedal and voila, it went like the clappers! Excitedly I ran to the house to tell Jean. She glanced over at the headphones. “Don’t worry love, I’ll keep it in the cabin.” Her grin lit up the room. So, what have I sewn so far? Not a single thing.