What Else Could I Do?

It was sitting there – quite dusty and alone.

The snap latches on the front of the case broken, lid gaping open enough to allow me a glimpse of tangled cord and glossy black.

I lifted the lid – well wouldn’t you?

Oh sweet thing – who are you? Who owned you?  How did you end up here?

I gingerly lifted her out of that broken case -

And turning her over gently, much like checking the sex on a new-found kitten – took a photo of the serial number in the dim light of the antique mall – so I could enlarge it on the phone screen enabling my eyes to actually make out what might possibly be:

September 10th, 1934.

$175.00

“But she isn’t very pretty.” said the voice of reason within my head. “Her decals are all gone.”

“That means someone loved her more than we could ever guess!” said the voice of sentimentality.  

“Someone loved this machine so much they sewed those decals right off.”

School bell bobbin winder guide!

Only the very early featherweights had the infamous “school bell” guide.  1934 is 2 years earlier than my pink featherweight that faced an untimely demise due to the carelessness of United airlines and their mandatory gate check.

This beauty also has the old style chrome stitch length regulator -

And a lovely scroll face plate -

A chrome hand wheel.

No lines on this feed dog plate either!

Barely a decal left in front -

But that foot pedal?

Again the voice of sentimentality (she always rules the day) spoke up to say “Someone loved her enough to replace the old foot with a 1950s model, so the owner could keep sewing…”  And I smiled to myself.

How much easier was it for the operator to use this style foot pedal than the standard singer “one toe button” model?

I quickly checked to be sure – yes, the original bobbin case was in place.  We plugged her in so I could hear her run.  Purring like a kitten, she was begging me to take her home.

The voice of sentimentality knows how to hit me every time, and before I knew it – I was hauling this beauty to the car.

A well loved machine, even with all of its decals sewn off through the using and making of many decades, will often be a better running machine than a pristine one who sat unused “in mint condition” in a closet for 50 years.

Cleaned up, oiled, new needle – and sewing.

She sings!

Ella Fitzgerald made her debut at the Apollo Theater in 1934, the same year that this sweet featherweight was manufactured.

I will be calling her Ella.

And perhaps someone will be sewing on her as one of the “loaner machine” fleet at Quiltville Inn.

There were also quilts to discover -

Even if I wasn’t seeing too clearly – I had just left my macula specialist after a checkup complete with mandatory dilation.  UGH.  I was waiting for it to get darker outside so I could drive home.

The date below MOTHER says 1933.

How special are these to still be a pair?

I love these scrappy stars!

And this, of course this!

Where would one get so many pink and blue gingham scraps?

Textile factory, maybe?

Look closely:

Today’s Quiltville Quote of the Day.

I absolutely love how the maker of this quilt showed no fear in cutting the gingham completely off grain in many of the patches, However her template would fit on the scraps she had at hand. It gives this quilt life! If it were all perfectly aligned with the grain it would be a perfectly boring quilt.

Are there things you won't even attempt to try because you know it won't turn out perfect?

Perfection is highly overrated!

Don't let your fear stop you in your tracks.

Happy Tuesday, friends!