Remember the 1950’s ad for a Singer, here? The next part of the story was supposed to be this:
As featured in the ad, now in my living room. Well, not. As it turned out, the thing kept jamming. I cleaned it, I oiled it, put in a new needle, joined a vintage Singers list serve to no avail. Fortunately the guy I bought it from on Craigslist took it back and we agreed on a fair refund. He restored my faith in humanity just in time for the shortest day of the year, after which the days will get longer and sun return.
Yes I know the sun doesn’t go anywhere, not factually, or at least not without its solar system following along as the universe expands. Even so, I think that the sun goes away in these dark days, to nestle with its other spouse, the Southern hemisphere.
Today I went back to my gruff guy in the sewing machine repair shop, which he is closing at the end of January. He is neither Russian nor Ukrainin, but Bulgarian in origin, and today I learned that the Cyrillic alphabet used in Russia was invented in Bulgaria, where there is a letter for every sound and all words are spelled phonetically. We also had a long conversation about Stalin (mostly on his side; I listened).
I was there today to get a power cord repaired, which he skilfully did, after which we had a conversation about history and the present state of things. (He said that in the middle East one side of fanatics and another side of fanatics are fighting and spending money on it, which they could be using to support a 3 day work week and living well. I totally agree. He also had some views on the end of days, of which I reserve any opinion.)
The power cord belongs to the second sewing machine I bought from him. You remember my Toyota (same link as above). She sews well and daintily, with some coaxing over denim seams. I wanted to get an old straight sew, something I could use for sewing leather or canvas or quilts or bags, that kind of things. A hearty eater.
Meet the Kenmore:
This is a 1968 straight-sew and zigzag machine that keeps saying: More layers! I want more! Yum yum, chomp chomp. I folded a scrap of denim over 2, 4, 6, 8 times! Yum, gobble gobble, stitch, stitch. What will I feed it next?