Antique/Thrift Shopping (or How a Singer 99k followed me home)

A few Saturdays ago,  Michel, my sister Deana and I went spent the day together and set about antique shopping in some of the north Georgia towns. Deana had been asking me for weeks to go with her, just to spend time together and to help her find some Depression Glass. I was fortunate enough to inherit my mother's Depression Glass (who got if from her mother, her got it from her mother-in-law) and my sister wants to start a collection of her own. So, we set off in search of something yellow, her favorite color.

Our first stop was a veritable treasure trove of glass. You name it, they had it. We found lots of different yellow pieces in more patterns than I can remember. Deana found a few that she liked, but didn't purchase anything, as it was only our first stop and she couldn't commit to a favorite pattern. While we were at that shop, I found a few vintage sewing odds and ends that I thought were neat, but didn't purchase. On the drive to the next stop, a voice in the back of my head said to actively look for sewing paraphernalia. Sometimes I listen to that voice a little too much and passed on to Michel and Deana that I was looking for "Singer" branded items.

The second stop was a typical antiques store - lots of nice things, but at very high prices. We browsed around, with the usual 'just looking' response when asked if we needed help. I always feel bad just 'window shopping'; those store owners need to earn a living just as much as I do and every just browsing customer is a non-paying customer.  But, as we were about to leave, Deana spotted a little green box with 'Singer' on it. The box was full of attachments for a low-shank machine - perfect for my newly acquired Singer Featherweight! The price was less than I could find online and I scooped them up!

The next stop was the mountain city of Ellijay - a place with antique/thrift stores galore! Browsing around the first in a long line of stores, I gravitated towards a wood domed shaped object, knowing its significance as a case for vintage & antique sewing machines.

I opened it up and inside was a Singer 99 sewing machine. The machine was mostly intact, but missing the critical knee bar controller so there was no way to test the electric motor. The wires were in fair shape, and thinking about it, it would not have been safe to try it out; exposed wiring is not something you want to play with. For its condition and missing pieces, the asking price was a little high and I wasn't willing to take the gamble on how much work it would need, given that high asking price. I spent a good twenty  minutes or so pondering the purchase. How badly did I want it? Did I really need another machine? I lost count at eight machines, but what's one more? Right? Right? Well, rationality took over and I passed on this one. There would be others I was certain.

But I didn't leave empty handed. Deana found me this gem, for a decent price and it goes perfectly with my model 27 treadle from 1899 (machine number 3 in my growing collection).

Several more hours of store shopping yielded many interesting finds, but nothing that screamed 'take me home'. Probably not a bad thing for my wallet in the grand scheme of things. On our return trip home, we decided to stop at an recently opened antique/thrift shop near my sister's home. Deana said it was a re purposed Hobby Lobby, so I knew it would have lots and lots of treasures. There were neat things, but again, no 'screamers'. Although, I was certain I would scream personally if I had seen one more sewing machine treadle cabinet with those nice cast iron legs underneath a piece of glass for a decorator table! For me, you might as well take a Tiffany lamp and smash it against a wall. It hurts my soul to see the wonderful machines cast out as trash and destroyed. Oh the stories they could tell if only they could speak. How many hours of hard labor had each of them seen under the tender hands of their owners? Maybe that is the root of my hidden desire to restore every forsaken machine I come across. Those machines were designed to last a lifetime, many of them have done so with proper care and maintenance; some of them multiple lifetimes.

And so, at this last store of the day, this little forgotten treasure came home with me.

I wasn't going to purchase this machine; it is electric and needs a complete re-wire. That isn't beyond my skill level, but not something I had on my 'to do' list, as it were.  But through the use of modern technology (thank you Android and 4G!), we ran the serial number and according to Singer, this machine was allotted on January 5, 1950. Which in non-collector speak, means this machine was manufactured sometime between January 5 through July 27, 1950 (the next allotment for this model). Why is that important? Well, to a Singer Collector, there is no significance to that particular date; nothing unusual about the machine to make it extraordinarily collectible.  But to me, to me it has meaning. Mom was born in February 1950. This little machine and woman I treasured could very well share the same birthday. Though that I could, I know I can't bring Mom back. But, I could breathe new life into this little machine. Michel saw the gleam in my eye as we discussed the machine's 'birth date'. He knew what its significance meant to me.


Michel bought this little gem for me. Not only because it reminded me of Mom (though she never really sewed), but also because I think he gets a bit joy from watching my excitement as I bring one of these little babies back from the brink of death.  I've been busy working on her since we brought her home. Yes, this machine is a 'her', and her name is Ann. As I progress, I'll post photos so you can see Ann's rebirth. I can't wait to sew with her; perhaps Ann's first project will be a sundress for the grand-daughter her namesake never had a chance to meet.

Time Flies

It's hard to believe so much time has passed since I last made posting. So many things have changed, some good and some bad, that at times I've felt a bit overwhelmed. I hope to add all of the changes here eventually.  The most significant change - I have achieved my weight goal of the mid-160's! That makes a total weight loss of about 90 pounds, and a helluva lot of work to do it! What has been harder? Making certain I don't fall back into old, bad habits. And so far, so good. I've held the same weight now within a few pounds up/down since Christmas - that in itself is an accomplishment for me. And a good by-product: this summer heat isn't bothering me at all; at least not yet!

Here's a recent photo of me with my sweet, dear sisters.

Deana, me, and Dana

Highs & Lows

Another two months since my last post. Thank Heaven that blogging is not my chosen profession; I would have fired myself by now! As usual, my other projects and life events have taken priority and blogging has been on the back-burner. There is a quite a bit to share, so I'll apologize now if I become overly long-winded; it is a trait of which I am frequently guilty in the 'real world' as well.

Good news first - as of this week, I have officially shed 75 lbs from my frame! I truly cannot express how good this achievement makes me feel, both physically and psychologically. I have much more energy and stamina than ever before and I no longer shriek away from the mirror when I see my reflection. People say I smile more, and that I carry myself a bit taller and straighter, which in itself is an achievement as I'm only 5'6" on a good day! Two months ago, I said my goal was to lose about another twenty pounds. From that point, I am down nine more, with another eleven to go. However, I've been re-assessing that number and I think another fifteen from where I am now would be a good stopping point. That would still place me about five pounds over my 'ideal' weight, but still leave me at a good weight balance for my height and build. And it doesn't hurt that my physician believes that 155 would indeed be too small for me as well. And while I am not setting a deadline for my goal weight, it would be extremely nice to be at that weight or very close to it by the time Christmas holidays rolls around.

And more on the good news front - my patio garden was an overall success this year! I harvested the last of my 'crops' over the weekend and I must say that all of the hard work was very much worth the effort. If you've never had fresh produce right from the plant, you really should try it. The flavors and textures are much cleaner, richer and crisper. Needless to say, I will be growing and harvesting again next season; however, I don't think I will try and plant everything 'under the sun' and then some! Some vegetables grew and produced much better than others (tomatoes, peppers, squash, eggplant), and they will be repeated next year. Others didn't fare so well - cucumbers, watermelons and cantaloupes; they won't be returning. I did, however, add an additional fruit to the patio, planting two blueberry bushes and hopefully in two seasons, I'll have my own blueberries; only time will tell.

And now, the not so great news. Cancer, it seems, is flourishing all around me with people I know and love. I had mentioned previously that my brother has been diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer. From the latest information I have received, the disease has progressed to his liver. I don't have this knowledge firsthand, as yet again, he has written me out of his life. Evidently, I do not care enough because I don't call on a daily basis and stroke his ego in the manner he expects and in the manner others do. I truly am sorry my brother is suffering through this illness; but after forty years, I am tired of the drama that results from our 'relationship'. It is exhausting and continuously pulls me down into the muck, and that my friends is a place I do not wish to live. So, I shall rely upon my sisters for information and leave the relationship with my brother as is. Might I regret that decision in the future? Maybe; probably. But as I am struggling to learn, I cannot live in tomorrow, I must live in today.

And speaking of today, well recent 'todays' anyway - in the past month both my father-in-law and my step-grandmother have been diagnosed with cancer as well. My step-grandmother's diagnosis is Stage 4 lung cancer. She is in her early 80's and has decided not to undergo treatment and let the disease run its course. She always believed that she would develop some sort of lung disease/disorder as she had been a lifelong smoker up until 10-15 years ago.

Also diagnosed with a Stage 4 cancer is my father-in-law, Doug. His cancer is cholangiocarcinoma - a rare cancer of the bile ducts. Both lobes of his liver are affected.  Without treatment, his oncologist gave him an estimate of 4-6 months. This is the diagnosis for a man who has always been in excellent health and has always been very active. (And why is Stage 4 showing up suddenly in people who have regular, annual physicals? Have all of these cancers just grown so quickly over the last twelve months that they went unnoticed/undetected for so long beforehand?) Doug has chosen to to undergo the first rounds of chemo and then a reassessment to check if the treatments are having any positive effect on his cancer. He has kept a positive attitude about his illness from the get-go, and he is in touch with Michel every few days to keep him abreast of how things are going. On the outside, Michel has been taking his dad's illness well; on the inside, I can see that he is being torn apart on the inside. He experienced a small part of the cancer battle when Mom was ill, and I truly hate that he has to face it firsthand now with his own parent. On a good note though, we learned a lot about cancer from Mom's illness; this time we were prepared with the right questions to ask and to have Michel's dad ask his own doctors. And unfortunately, we know what to expect with the chemo and the side effects, and the havoc cancer plays not only upon the person afflicted, but those who surround that person as well. We are better prepared, but nothing truly can prepare a person for the potential loss of a parent. I only hope that I can be as strong of a support system for Michel as he was for me in my time of need; time will tell.

I hate to end this post on such a negative tone; but in order to have good days, we must first suffer through the bad ones so that we have something of which to compare them. Relatively speaking, this was a good day - if for no other reason than I was here to see it arrive.