I have a treadle sewing machine but the last time it worked was when I cut down and hemmed sheets for Ferretfinger’s cot. He now uses it as a desk for his laptop and spends many happy hours surfing the web.
One Christmas, after many
years of my complainingly hand-sewing or patching kit-formed trousers, Fester
bought me an electric sewing machine.
Llandeilo Grammar School’s needlework teacher, Fanny Och, instilled in me a hatred of sewing and its machines. It’s also quite a pain having to clear a space on the dining table any time you want to set up and use a sewing machine. Thus the gift spent a couple of years in its box.
Eventually Mrs Quilt came to the rescue.
“Oh you have a machine and nowhere to put it? I’m clearing out our craft room to make space to make a replica quilt for Beamish Museum. Would you like our sewing machine cabinet? It would be nice to see it go to a good home.”
A few days later said cabinet arrived and fits perfectly in the back bay window.
It is a wondrous thing, on castors so it can be moved around where there’s enough space to open both doors, fold out the lid to create a work surface, bring up the shelf that holds the machine creating a kneehole for the needleworker, and revealing drawers and little containers for bobbins, scissors, patterns, spare needles etc.
I have to say it has been most useful in encouraging me in repairing, reusing and recycling clothes and materials and, recently, making masks.
I had it out the other afternoon to shorten and do running repairs on my favourite summer dress, which predates the millennium. The dress being done I had intended to make more masks but the natural light was fading and my eyes were getting tired.
“I think I’ll stop for now” I said to Thunderthighs “I’m more in the mood for knitting.”
He looked at the open cabinet, the machine up, material cut out for masks lying on the work surface, pursed his lips and said primly
“Well I’m not very happy that you’re leaving all your stuff lying around”
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