I Can't Believe I Did It

 Last year after leaving the U.P. I was glancing through one of those regional news flyers (there are no newspapers in the U.P., everything newsworthy is online) and I saw this ad.  

I was intrigued and also disappointed that we had just been to that town and I didn't know something like this existed. I saved this ad for a year just in case PH was called upon to do this trip again.

This is my little crank machine I've had since I was a little girl.  It's got lots of miles on it and finally just turned arthritic and uncooperative and, well, cranky.  When we knew we were making the trip back up north this was the first thing I packed.  I was going to ask the good people at this shop if they would fix her.

Well.  Stepping into that shop was like stepping into Geppetto's clock shop.  I walked in the door and just stood still, staring, mouth open, at the wonder of what must have been hundreds of antique - some VERY antique - crank sewing machines.  Beautifully crafted machines that have seen their day but are not forgotten by this couple.  I am still kicking myself that I didn't take photos of that place.  But to be honest, I was too full of questions, and the tactile experience of just stroking those beautiful and strange machines, all beautifully restored and cared for and for sale.  

The owners were only too happy to take my little baby and fix her up and then explain the story behind this beauty, and the history of that one, and the differences between them.   Some had regular bobbins like we know, some had shuttle bobbins, some were made to commemorate one of Queen Victoria's daughters, Princess Alexandra, some were Singer, some were other makers, some were incredibly decorative with inlaid mother of pearl, some were 'just' decal, some were completely silent, some had the clickety sound of a wheel turning, some were very, very heavy, some were lighter, some were treadle, most were not, there was one huge industrial machine.   It was like Disneyland only better.

PH wanted to watch his Notre Dame football game so we were advised to go to an Italian restaurant down the road because they had a television and we were also hungry.  We left.  I thought. And I thought.  And I employed my "will you have a bigger headache if you DO buy it or if you DON'T?" philosophy and I walked back to the shop.  I explained my aversion to sewing machines and asked the owners, "is there one that is absolutely idiot proof because I am one.  An idiot." 

And they showed me this one.   As you can see, I fell in love with it and brought it home.  

They insisted I video with my phone how to thread the spindle bobbin, how to thread the machine, just everything.  They spent two hours with me showing me its fine talents and I made a water bottle carrier so I could actually try it before I buy it.   I didn't care about the sound.  They said some people want them to be absolutely silent but I said I enjoy the sound of a typewriter over a computer keyboard so sound was not an issue. 

I can't believe I did it.  I can't believe I did it.  I really can't believe I did it.  But I did.  I would dare anyone to walk out of there without one of these beautiful machines.

Here's the crank.  And to the left is the spindle bobbin winder.  

And the case.  It's called a coffin case because, well, it looks like a coffin.  

It won't launch the space shuttle like the modern computerized machines so many of you have, but those intimidate the heck out of me. This, I can do.