Making Do

“Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.”

So, I was doing without a machine. Until remembered got fed up with not having one and went in search of this baby. This is a Singer, Featherweight 221, for those who don’t know. She’s a centennial model, 1951, to commemorate 100 years of sewing machines from Singer. She’s one of the first portable models made for sewing, as the others of that age were mounted in a cabinet. She’s definitely a collector’s item, and something I’m proud to have and keep for posterity.

She still sews like a dream, though. She sews straighter seams and is quieter than my first Kenmore machine. Funny, Mr. Wonderful liked to refer to the Kenmore’s “hum” as a machine gun. Well…….it was a loud machine! Here’s to getting some mending done on a beautiful piece of history! If you want more information on these little gems, google Featherweight 221, or brave Ebay if you dare. They really are simple machines with plenty o’ replacement parts on the market. There are dealers out there, and also good deals to be had at estate sales and auctions. Good luck to you if you’re looking for one. I’d highly recommend it if you want a straight line backward and forward. That’s all she does, but she does it well.

“Kay bye!

The Tablecloth That Isn’t

I grew up eating on this tablecloth at special occasions.

It’s a quilt top my mom hemmed the edges on and repurposed.

See the “fake” pinwheel fabric, printed to look like patchwork?

That fabric makes me happy, so I wonder if that was at “my spot” at the table?

 Hmm…anyway, this spirally awesome thing was used as a tablecloth. Did I mention that?

 And now that I’m all grown up (most days) and quilting for my household,

 I realize how HARD those spirals are,

and how cool it is that we were allowed to even touch this one as kids, let alone eat on it!

Vintage Sheeting Repurposed

While reading a blog about retro and vintage sheets…. 

Me: Hey, that one looks familiar, wonder if my parents still have it? (thinking I would have to search diligently on the web just to find my very own copy!)

 Mom: Yep, we still have it, I’ll hunt for it, ok?

Mom (on last trip down): Here, you can have it, we were using it as a paint cloth.

 Me: Really? Sold!

I’m sure when next she visits, my mom will be sent home with various things in return! I should probably give them a paint cloth, too, since they’re now without one! Meanwhile, I’ll be brainstorming about how to disguise the paint spots. Any suggestions?

PS: The adorable two-year old in this picture is now learning to drive, while her mom buries her head in the sand!

Vintage Lovelies

One person’s influence: As a mom, and a wife, and a daughter to the best two parents ever, I’ve been pondering lately what it means to influence someone. It’s a quiet thing, not something you shout from the rooftops. But like water, you make your way, and you swirl around, move together, move in and out of sync. There are many wonderful quilters who’ve moved me towards a much more skilled sewista. I am forever in their debt. And then there are people I think I may have taught something, tho it remains to be seen what!!

My mother (the best one ever, remember?), made this when I was a baby. She told me it was supposed to have a Noah’s Ark scene in it…..Naaah. I like it exactly the way it is! And it explains my love of simple lined quilting and squares. It was on my bed for part of my childhood, and then it got used as a picnic quilt. May I just say, it’s machine quilted AND machine bound. My mom was quilting by machine before it was cool. Way to go, Mom!

It Has Good Bones

 

Mr. Wonderful and I spent 10 years in a 3 bedroom ranch house,

 making it just so.

I still miss it some days. Why’d we move?

 

6 people, 3 bedrooms. The math wasn’t working out anymore!  Enter this-

 

Huge, huh? Spotted about a year ago while driving through a great neighborhood.

The outside is perfect and the price was just right.

You can’t argue with a round driveway and a whole acre of flat land, you know?

The catch? It sports a “vintage 80’s” flare. And a canary yellow guest bathroom. And some seriously beige walls, trim, fixtures and wallpaper. The inside needs….love.

Seven months after closing, when I walk into a *still* beige room,

I take a deep, yoga-breathe and sigh in a sing-song voice, “It has good bones”.

There are whole rooms with nothing in them. Nothing.

There’s a cute little room upstairs that has no purpose. We call it the weird room.

It has potential, and thanks to both Mr. and Dad, it’s painted. But no furniture or purpose.

A library, an office, a huge walk in closet? No one knows. For now it’s just weird!

My sister calls it a castle-pretty accurate, considering the heating snafu’s this winter.

Much of my time is spent cleaning and feathering this castle,

but it will be worth it.

Why? Because it has good bones!