The Sewing Machine Whisperer ... Who Knew?

Every once in a while you meet someone special who absolutely loves what he or she does (hobby or otherwise).


Once upon a time I could ID almost any cactus with just a glance (teddy bear cholla and saguaro). My mother can ID Indian jewelry at fifty paces.  I have friends who can identify yarns from blurry photos.  (We won't even get into the friends who can name every ingredient in any dish I have ever made.)

Most recently the man I think of as the sewing machine whisperer.

He loves all things sewing and sewing machine related.  He knows the history of the manufacturers, what the trends were in several decades (not with textiles or patterns, but the technology of the machines), and has saved many a machine from the dust heap.

For many years, my Monkey Wards machine from the 80s decorated the bottom of a closet and I was fine with that.  This year that changed.  

Sewing became - other than.

Other than clothing that isn't necessarily designed for either my skill set or figure.
Other than darts and tucks that I can never get quite even.

It has become a symphony of straight lines (sort of), lining up and matching checks, plaids, or stripes.  Practical items like pillowcases, backpacks, needle cases.

Then I broke the machine and promptly kicked myself in the posterior (if I hadn't used it, it wouldn't have broken)... actually 28 yards of vintage Ralph Lauren fabric procured from a thrift store broke it.  It was a fabulous buy at a thrift store, enough to redo all of my sofas, chairs, and even a couple of valances.  

Rather than go to a chain store, CraigsList saved the day.  The man who can tame any sewing machine that crosses his path without a droplet of perspiration to dampen his brow. In one week and five minutes, I found out what I had done wrong so many years ago with my bobbins and tension.  The week was to get the machine serviced, the five minutes for the tutoring.

I guess the lesson in all of this is to find your passion and move forward.

Too bad selecting dog toys isn't a real career - I could be the next woobie whisperer.

29 days of giving challenge - a little charity work day ... 14

Once again, I fall behind ... *sigh* One day, I'll remain on top of everything.  But if I do that, will gravity still work?  Probably (darn the luck).

I have always collected people who are smarter, better skilled, more thoughtful, and more charitable than me.  It gives me a lot to live up to and it opens my eyes to additional possibilities.  Consider me lucky to bask in the glow of their light(s).

For years, my mom has purchased fabric for all kinds of projects (from clothes to curtains to slip covers).  She has an ability to see not only the possibility and timelessness of some patterns, but she is also able to engineer things to make the best possible use of the fabric she does have.  As a result of frugal use and frugal shopping, she has an incredible store of fabric.

Somehow a project came to her attention as a way to use some of it and give back to the community.  This project is one that gives kids in the foster system something of their own they can use to carry their belongings from place to place.  Personalized duffel bags.

I am not a great sewer, I can barely make a straight line.  I am great at turning things like straps.  So, three of us worked on the project to develop our own prototype.  One turned straps, someone else ironed seams and fabric, and finally my mom did the sewing.

The assembly line wasn't too efficient the first day, but I know we are going to get better.  I also know this might change one child's life.  Possibly two.