Sewing was going so well. Those three pairs of summer pants for Mimi have been perfect. I figured out that my problem with garment sewing is commercial patterns. Stuff I print off the internet for free is cheaper, more intuitive, perfectly cute for toddler clothes, and doesn’t print out on a million scraps of tissue paper. No more commercial patterns for me.
So I had moved on to peasant blouses for Mimi, planning to try a couple of short-sleeved ones for the summer and a whole bunch of long-sleeved ones for the winter.
Then my serger ran out of thread for the first time ever. It took me an hour to re-thread it, even with multiple sources of instructions, and the tension still isn’t right. But it is running, so I finished serging the little blouse and turned back to my sewing machine.
The light flickered. The needle vibrated and buzzed. It ran, then it stopped running. Then I smelled smoke.
So this morning I packed the machine and Mimi into the car and drove all the way across town to the one little shop that advertises itself as a sewing machine repair shop. The parking was metered street-parking at a busy intersection. I had to handle Mimi and the machine at the same time. The humidity was 80%, the temperature 80 degrees. We both badly wanted lunch. Can you see where this is going?
My idea that one took broken sewing machines to mom & pop sewing machine and vacuum repair places to get them fixed is, apparently, an old-fashioned idea and symptomatic of my advanced age. Computerized machines have to go back to dealers for repair, and the dealers charge a great deal to ship them very far away. And my machine, after trying it a couple more times, definitely has computer problems.
So admire the piles of fabric. They aren’t going anywhere for a long, long time.