I Singer The Body Electric

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I did some sewing last night on my machine: An old singer I inherited from my grandmother.

She’s my only living grand parent and she is also where all the women in my family get their spitfire gene. She was a college graduate back in the day, which for a woman of her generation was a mighty achievement. She majored in Home Economics and I believe this little machine was her very first sewing machine. In the years that followed, my grandma would graduate to bigger and better machines but would find herself coming back to this little fella during the inevitable break down of the latest and greatest.

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This sewing machine’s got chutzpa!

It comes in its own very cool little case with a top lift out shelf doohickey which allows you to keep a spool of thread on the machine while simultaneously packing it away. That’s right up my alley of lazy. Pack ‘er away and take ‘er back out later and no fuss with rethreading and whatnot. Plus, it has neat moving parts and a bazillion feet. It has feet I can not fathom the purpose for. It has feet even DQ is not sure about. It has an entire auxiliary box of feet I haven’t even looked into yet. I bet if you park this baby next to the window and give it a bottle of Windex, it would shine those babies right up for you.

The best part is that my meticulous grandma saved everything about this machine. Feet, bobbins, needles, keys and the directions. Take a peek.

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I asked DQ (we were over at her house sewing jester hats. Whee) whether she knew what the voltage to her house was and how many cycles it had or if I needed to call her Electric Light Company to get the information. Hee. This puppy is pre electricity standardization and can even be set up for direct current. I’m not sure how old the machine is, exactly, I’ve always gone by the copyright stamp on the book. 1938 would make my grandmother 20 or 21, just about the right time to be buying her own machine.


Last year at the booniverse: Parshallville. Hee. I love that name, like the place isn’t big enough to be a real ville.

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