A Visit To The Metal Scrap Yard

just a quick update

DD Em is down from her mountain town and helped me haul 5 dead cast iron sewing machines to the metal scrap yard today.  I had previously stripped them of everything useful to me.  They were all well and truly dead.  Do I sound defensive?  (Yes)  Am I feeling guilty?  (No, not really)

We had a good time wending our way through Durham's industrial district.  The actual place was on a gravel road off of another gravel road.  Pretty far back in there.

Wish I had pictures, but this was the most security-conscious place I have been outside an airport.  Our license plate number was recorded.  My driver's license was recorded and checked against a database.  THEN they scanned my index fingerprint.  Never had that happen before.

So, no pics, but you can check out their website:  Always Buying Scrap.  There is even a video.

It was very, very cool.  We spotted the corner where they were obviously hoarding things too good to be melted down (cool old metal 1950s chairs, large spoked wheels, and what looked like some kind of giant grinder.  Rick of American Restoration would have loved it).

The three different guys we talked to were all great--friendly and helpful.  They butted each machine up against a tubular magnet about 3 feet tall and 4 inches in diameter.  I could have told them they were iron!   Then they put them on a platform scale all together.  Printed out a ticket.  I took the ticket into a little booth (again very secure) and slid it into a slot.  And my astonishing payout emerged from the ATM.

So what were my ill-gotten gains for wanton sewing machine destruction, you ask?

Twelve dollars.  Not apiece, $12 for all five.

We had spotted a diner on the way in, so we went there and blew the whole thing on brunch.  Actually, it wasn't enough to cover brunch for two at Joe's Diner. 

And if it weren't for looking up the link for YOUR benefit, dear readers, I would never have discovered that Joe's Diner is not just a corner diner in the heart of Durham's industrial district.  It is also a magnet for celebrities.  Here's a partial list of the photos of happy Joe's customers:
Spike Lee
MC Hammer
Katie Couric
Matt Lauer
Earth, Wind, AND Fire.  Yes, all of them
Emeril
Usher
Charles Barkley

for some reason they did not ask to take our pictures while we were there.  perhaps they did not know who we were!

Yet Another Electric Treadle

Walked into my favorite charity shop a couple of weeks ago, and lo and behold, another version of the electric treadle.

Looks like vintage sewing machine Mecca, doesn't it?  Many of the ones back there are crap machines that have been there for YEARS.  Thrift shops don't have to freshen up their stock!  There are some gems here though.

You may remember that the one I bought had both a full treadle set-up (foot pedal, flywheel, pitman) and a motor controller that could be attached to the pitman.  The logical conclusion is that it began life as a treadle and was later converted to use an electric motor.  And then unconverted back to a treadle.


This one is different.  There is no flywheel.  There is no evidence that a flywheel was ever there.  So, yeah, I know I should not be calling it a treadle.  But except for that missing flywheel, it looks just like a straight leg treadle.

So what is this, some rare early transitional form?  Inquiring minds need to know.

The one I bought had frayed and broken wiring, and the pitman was not connected to the controller.  Now I have a nice photo if I ever want to refurbish mine. 

One of the many things that keep me hooked on this hobby:  There are many different things to look at, think about, learn.  Fascinating, relatively meaningless things.  None of it has to be taken seriously.  The fate of the world, the country, the state, the family are NOT AFFECTED in any way.  It's very soothing.  

Just another (potentially) pretty Red Eye.  I don't have one since the family treadle went to live at DD A's.  And I have always been partial to this particular cabinet style.  But I didn't buy it.  Not yet, anyway.

And now a word about blog comments.  Yahoo sometimes tells me when you post comments, and sometimes it does not.  I do like to respond, so I often have to do it here rather than by email.  You have the option to "subscribe by email" to the comments section on each blog post if you want to read my response to you.  And the comments by readers can be the best part of the post!

HMTATM? Davis New Vertical Feed

...continuing to explore the question "How Many Treadles Are Too Many?"  In the last post I justified my latest (and cheapest) purchase, now living in the studio as a student treadle easily converted back and forth from people power to electric power.

I joined treadleon shortly after being bitten by the vintage sewing machine bug.  Started hearing about all kinds of machines I never knew existed.  As soon as I discovered that there was a machine named
Davis, I knew I had to have one.  My maiden name was Davis.  The more I read about them the better they sounded.

Every morning with my coffee I read the digests from various sewing machine bulletin boards, and look at CraigsList sewing machines both near and far in North Carolina.  Ah, retirement.  I spotted a Davis in a town far away.  The listing was up for months, then disappeared.  Six months later the same photos showed up in a CL ad in a town nearby.  The people had moved and brought it into my orbit.  The luck of the Davises, no doubt. 

It had the worst finish of any machine head I have worked on---like sandpaper, and it would have been impossible to sew on.  The wood cabinet was in similar shape.  My usual policy is to do the least I can, but this time I stripped the finish off the cabinet with denatured alcohol, then put a tung oil finish on.  I know NOTHING about wood and woodworking, but ignorance has never stopped me.  Tung oil is super easy and looks age-appropriate in my opinion. The finish on the wood is now smooth as glass.

Now it looks terrific, better than this photo. 

This is now my go-to treadle, and I love it for many reasons.  First, it is just more comfortable than the Singer treadles.  I haven't taken any measurements or tried to figure out why, and it would not matter to any one else if I had.  Certain brands of shoes fit me, other brands the same size just don't.  I think you have to try on machines the same way you try on shoes.

Next, you don't have to haul the machine up and down.  It has a chain system and opening the lid raises the machine automatically.  Closing the lid lowers it.  I really, really love this feature.  Easy peasy, or facile facile if you speak French.  You learn the most interesting things on sewing machine bulletin boards.

It has an amusing drawer lined with a VERY thick felt.  The bottom lifts out, allowing you to hide something beneath it.

I assume this drawer is meant to protect the attachments, and it came with a bunch.  I love having them, fondling them, and reading about them.  But all I do on this machine is piece quilt blocks.  No attachments necessary.

All of these things are terrific, but none of them are unique.  Here's what makes a Davis vertical feed special---why, it's the vertical feed.

Look closely at the photo for the feed dogs.  Look again.  Still don't see them?  That's because there are none.

The needle hole is a slot rather than a hole.  Can you see it right under the presser foot?   The needle plate can be turned around for different weights of thread, so the slot you can easily see on the right hand side of  the needle plate is also a needle slot.  The needle descends at the front of the slot, pierces the fabric, the needle slides to the back of the slot and then rises and goes back to the front.

Better than a walking foot.  WAY better.  Treadling quilters love these machines.  It is just not possible for layers to shift.  You still have to prepare carefully and baste, and basting is not my thing, so I haven't tried it for quilting yet.  Next baby quilt, though.  I do love it for piecing. 

Bobbin winder engaged.  Fold it up to disengage.

I took the many of the photos before this belt was installed:  3/16" clear plastic tubing, connected with a little plastic connector.  The advantage of this is that it won't stretch over time the way that leather will.  It's cheaper and quieter than the coil spring belt.

This tubing is also available in black, which would be great, but it will take me a bit longer use up the 30 feet of the clear that I bought.  McMaster Carr has tubing in several more colors also.  Do you fancy red, green, or yellow?

As always, there is no advertising on this site.  If I tell you about a product, it is only to help you find something that I know from experience will work.  For all I know there are thousands of places to buy this.  I have heard that aquarium tubing works.






The finish on the head of the machine was sandpaper rough.  It looked like the varnish had hundreds of tiny bubbles that had burst, leaving jagged edges.  I had to attack the finish more vigorously than I usually do, at least on the bed.

Cleaning the gunk began to reveal the decals, although going too far begins to strip off the colored layer of the decals, revealing the silver beneath.

I made a radical decision on the back of the machine--I deliberately stripped it down to the silver.  It was even gunkier back here than on the front.  I just wanted to be able to see the letters and the designs.  I don't regret it.

And if you feel the need to tell me how I have sinned, send all comments to
Cheryl Warren
c/o Michael Garibaldi
Babylon 5
Epsilon Eridani

best I could do on the front

The decals on the machine look much worse in person than they do in the photographs.  The remaining gunk obscuring the decals is still dimensional--it has thickness.  It's ugly.  It's horrible.  If you saw it you would NOT blame me for stripping the back!  At least I think you wouldn't.

And although I do dearly love a beautiful machine and would swap this head out for a prettier one in a heartbeat, in the end what REALLY matters is how well it sews.  And, like most of my vintage and antique sewing machines, it sews very sweetly.  It is a pleasure to sit at this machine.

It has an interesting bed decal that reads "Made in US America".  Doug from the Davis board suggested that the number of stars on the flag would be a clue to its age, but they are just too worn away to count.


The luck of the Davises held all the way through, btw.  I did not know this before I bought it, but apparently this model (the NEW vertical feed) is the only one that takes regular sewing machine needles, rather than some obscure and hard to find vintage needle. 




Here's the thing about a nice friendly treadle, one that works well and fits your body:  it's just fun to sew on.  Not really much different from other smoothly working vintage machines, once you find the rhythm of the treadle.

Buy a treadle (or revive your grannie's with some oil and a nice new belt) and you, too, can joke about being ready for the fall of civilization.

(and, in honor of my Baltimore roots)
How 'bout them asteroids, hon?

HMTATM?* The Electric Treadle

*How Many Treadles Are Too Many?

I sold my Singer 7-drawer gingerbread-y treadle with a Singer 237 in it, and the recipient wanted sewing lessons--on a treadle.  So the same day I delivered it, I went out and bought another treadle.  It was on CraigsList in the Big City, but was actually here in my little town, population 5,000, two blocks from my house.  It was filthy, and the veneer was not peeling, it was entirely de-laminating.  But for $25 it was perfect for down in the studio, where "eclectic" is probably the kindest thing that can be said about the decor.

The great thing about items that are in truly horrible condition is that you never have to worry about messing them up.  I took a scraper to the veneer and removed as much as possible, and in largish chunks whenever possible. This got about 75% of it off.  A very damp old linen dish towel and a hot iron allowed even more veneer to be scraped off and then a final steam or two took off much of the old glue.  All of this was really fun.  Destructo.

Sadly, no before or during photos.  One can do, or one can photograph and do at half-speed.  Or less.

Then I spent a couple of days gluing and clamping the remaining layers back together.  Then light sanding, then several coats of tung oil.

The wood underneath the top two layers of veneer looks quite nice on display, don't you think?

I removed the veneer from the front edge, where it was in the worst shape, but left it on the inside of the lid, where the fabric will be sliding across.

Singer 237 in its new home

This machine is going to serve the needs of more than one student:  two students who are treadling Singer 237s at home, and another student who bought an electric Japanese zig-zagger from me.  The 237 has a great reputation as both an electric machine and as a treadle.  I need one that is both.

New student Heidi.  Welcome!

The problem solver here is coil spring steel belting, available from McMaster Carr.  It's more expensive than the other treadle belt alternatives (to be discussed in future posts).  But it's stretchy, so it is perfect for this use, where I will be taking the treadle belt on and off of the hand wheel. If you want to do this yourself, its the 5/16" diameter carbon steel belt.  It comes in 10 foot lengths, which is enough for one Singer treadle but not enough for two.  You have to also buy the connectors which screw inside the two open ends of the belt--it's the smaller coil shown below. 

I cut it with giant bolt cutters because giant bolt cutters are the tool I have.  No idea what you should really use.

The coil spring belt is also good if you are treadling a Singer 306, 316, or 319.  They have to be tilted back in order to change the bobbin.  With a spring belt you do not also have to release the belt. 

Returning student Heather treadles a 237 at home also.

Heather's shoes have toes. Just had to show you!

treadle mode with motor belt removed

I took some of the extra belting and also made a motor belt.  I can switch this machine back and forth from electricity to people power in less than a minute.  Considerably less--a few seconds is all it takes.  And an electric light on a treadle is always a nice touch.

motor mode with treadle belt dropped down.  yes, the metal motor belt is noisy.

I know nothing about motors.  Some day I will learn.  Not today.  I have heard that the stretchy rubber motor belts are bad for motors, but I don't know why.  So maybe this is bad also.  But since it is used at most for a fraction of an hour a week, I'm not too worried about it.  This machine is strictly for student use.  I do my own treadling upstairs in "Studio North", aka the living room.




















Since students are coming every week, I plan to leave the machine up, not tucked away in the cabinet.  The studio is also the guest room, and this treadle is also the bedside table, so the only time I will put the machine away is when someone is planning to sleep in that bed.  So the machine needs a cover.  And in an amazing twist of fate I spotted this magazine rack across the room at a charity shop and was immediately drawn to it.  At first I did not know why.  Can you read upside down?

By the time I got this close I knew what it was and scooped it up.  Two other women openly lusted after it and told me so before I got to the check out. A little reverse carpentry, and voila:  returned to its original function, albeit in a less elegant setting.

So, a real pastiche, an ancient and decrepit Singer straight leg treadle stripped of much of its veneer and glued back together, holding a Singer 237 zigzagger with dual motor and treadle capability, crowned with an absolutely gorgeous New Home coffin top from an even earlier era.

I call this the electric treadle, and this is not its first incarnation as an electric treadle.  It came with a treadle-pedal-as-motor-controller conversion box.  Back in the day you could add a motor to your treadle sewing machine.  Unscrew the pitman from the flywheel and screw it into the motor controller.  The treadle pedal will then control the motor on the sewing machine and make it go.  And the only reason I know this is that one of the folks over at treadleon sent me a copy of the instructions for attaching all of this.  Thanks, Jimmie!

side view of motor controller, the box to the right of the flywheel

All of the wiring was horrifying, of course, and I have no intention of trying to use this.  And although the machine had a motor and the motor was connected to this controller, the pitman was still connected to the flywheel, meaning that it was functioning as a treadle when I bought it.  Just another vintage sewing machine mystery. 

It was my husband's grandmother's treadle that set off the addiction.  I had always wanted one.....ONE.  I never imagined any reason why I would want or need more than one.  Silly me.  In future weeks I will describe my other treadles and the reasons why I love them and have to keep them. 

How many do YOU have?  Are they enough or do you want more?  Do you think you have too many? 

So...how many treadles are too many?

BANNED from the vintage Kenmore yahoo group!

Wowzer!  I posted a message a couple of days ago to the vintage kenmore yahoo group and suddenly stopped getting the digest.  Today I went to the homepage and learned that I have been BANNED from the board.

Now I have NO idea why.  Several months ago I included my blog URL after my signature, and was told that this was against the rules.  So I apologized to the moderator and never did it again.

Recently I tried to post a message saying that I could not open a file on this board, and asked for help.  It had an rar at the end instead of the pdf that all the other files had.  I did not whine or complain in any way.  I just asked for help.  And I got banned.

Anybody have any ideas about this?

I'm not majorly a Kenmore girl, so this won't hurt me too badly.  But it would be nice to know what I did wrong, and I now have no way to contact them to ask why.

The Sewing Machine Reduction Plan

Three years ago I restored my husband's grandmother's Singer treadle and an obsession was born.

Lovely to look at, a pain in the neck to sew on.  If the handwheel slips backwards the tiniest bit, the thread breaks

Fortunately DD-A wanted it as an art object for her new house.  She did learn to use it, too.

I have followed the path trod by many others and gone through the same phases:  initial enthusiasm without the necessary knowledge or wisdom, resulting in the acquisition of some questionable machines among the jewels.  Later on, overestimation of my emerging skills, resulting in the unnecessary conversion of a couple of decent machines into parts machines (in other words, in fixing them I broke them).  Lately, facing the consequences of three years of buying sewing machines at thrift shops and from CraigsList: there were 21 sewing machines in my dining room over the holidays.  Fortunately the big dinner is at the MIL's, but really.  21 sewing machines.  And that's just the dining room.  Total head count for the entire house:  88.  It's time to turn the corner and start reducing the herd.

I had a plan, but it morphed along the way.  I was going to focus on getting the high-end Singers (401 and 500) fixed up and sell them on CraigsList.  I delved into half a dozen machines sequentially.

Singer 401s:  Enthusiasts claim that this is the best sewing machine Singer ever made

I even "repaired" one, by which I mean that I unscrewed and adjusted things and got them aligned properly.  Usually all I do is deep clean and oil them.  I always feel especially empowered and virtuous when I move beyond clean-and-oil.  I got to the point where one was clearly going to take up too much time, four each had one small thing that needed to be fixed or added, and the last one is a parts machine that could donate to some of the four.  None of those tiny repairs ever happened.  So I guess I have a plan for Christmas 2013.

In the meantime, the DH's home health nurse got interested in the sewing machines strewn around the house.  Everyone in her family, including her father, sews.  She wants to learn and asked about buying a machine from me.  We discussed it in snippets of time over several weeks.  She absolutely loved the Singer 66 brown Lotus.  Everyone in her family told her she needed a machine with at least reverse and a zig-zag and I explained why I agreed with them.  It took her a while to give up the dream of the Lotus, but in the end she choose a Singer 237 and we put it in a Singer 7-drawer treadle with the gingerbread trim on the sides.  Her family approves, which pleased and surprised me since none of them are treadling.

The Singer 237 is one of my all-time-favorite models.  Sturdy, reliable, simple and straightforward.  

Can be treadled or handcranked too.

So I had five 237's sitting around (in the front hall under the entry table), a couple of them never touched, a couple with serious problems or missing parts.  I moved from the 401s and 500s to the 237s and got three into excellent shape, combined two into one good machine and a parts machine.  One went to the nurse (she does have a name but I have not yet asked her permission to mention her here).  Another one went to a nice couple--he made the call initially and said he wanted to buy his wife a sewing machine for Christmas.  Gotta love a guy like that.  One is reserved for studio use.  One needs a minor adjusment to the spring on the tensioner.  And today I bought another one at the thrift shop.  Two out, one in--that's not bad, right? 

A fellow guild member asked me to look at her family treadle.  It turned out to be a Singer 9W, identical to a Wheeler & Wilson D-9, but with a class 221 bobbin rather than the hard to find Wheeler & Wilson bagel bobbin.  The tensioner was badly rusted, so I convinced her to buy a W&W D-9 head from me as a parts machine.  I charged her the ENTIRE $5.00 that I had paid for it, too.  And before you tell me how much I will regret letting it go, let me mention that I have a W&W No.8 with a complete set of the glass presser feet, in its treadle.

Jo's Singer 9W.  It has a Wheeler & Wilson serial number.  We put a new belt on it and got it turning smoothly.

I sold a Singer 338 to a mother for her young daughter.  Grandma is teaching the little girl to sew.  It has problems and they returned it.  Fortunately I had another one to loan them while I try to fix it.  I'm the only person on my local CraigsList to offer a 30-day guarantee on vintage sewing machines.  And if I can't fix it I will either give the money back or they can keep the loaner.

I love Singer's flat cam machines, and these are the prettiest color!

I sold a lovely Riccar 108 Japanese zig-zagger to a woman who has become a student, so you may see her later on.

Everyone who has sewed on this machine loves it (all three of us!)

 And on Christmas Eve I sold a green Alden's zig-zagger to a woman with several daughters.

Never found a cam set to fit it, so it remains a zig-zag and straight stitch only machine.

And here's the best news of all:  THEY ALL TOOK A CABINET WITH THEM.   They took the well-used but sturdy vintage cabinets.  They took the funky not-yet-cleaned cabinet with the peeling veneer.  They even took the beautiful vintage Singer cabinet with the lovely coordinating chair, and they paid extra for that one (the rest were free).

A couple of machines were re-homed without any money changing hands.  The SIL wanted a zig-zagger and took a two-tone aqua Singer 347.  Merry Christmas, Mary!

Simple zig-zagger and very pretty.

And although I haven't delivered it yet, I am planning to give Don back the 15-clone that he gave me.  I had cleaned and oiled his lady's plastic Singer and when I took it back he confessed that he is the sewing person in the household.  His sewing needs are for tarps and canvas and boat cushions.  I told him that he had given me the machine that he really needed.

Post WWII Japanese copies of the Singer model 15 are known as 15 clones.

This was the worst-looking machine ever to come through my hands.  Three living spiders emerged during the cleaning process--three different species, too.  Paint was badly chipped.  Wiring was horrifying, but it turned out that only the light wire was bad, the motor wire was fine.  So I removed the light, cleaned and oiled it, touched up the paint, replaced the missing bobbin cover, put a size 18 needle in it and some heavy duty thread, and adjusted both thread and bobbin tensions for the heavy thread.  Presto-bingo, a boat cushion cover machine for Don's workshop.

After restoration:  Sews beautifully through eight layers of heavy canvas.  Maybe more.

The two other black 15-clones that I had fitted out with hand cranks did not sell.  Not only that, they did not even get a nibble (not a single phone call).  Next year I am going to put the motors back on, fit them up with size 18 needles and market them as workshop machines for guys.  I'll let you know how that goes.



The sales did not end at Christmas.  After Christmas I sold two Singer 301s.  One a lovely LBOW (light beige, oyster white) in a cabinet with the cradle that allows you to snap the machine in and out without unscrewing anything.  AND the matching stool with storage inside.  AND a 301 zig-zagger, buttonholer, and an assortment of slant shank presser feet.

And I sold the black longbed 301 shown in the last blog post.

The nurse came back for another machine, too, a gift for a crafty young relative.

Singer 128, La Vendedora decals.  It now has a new front slide plate and a hand crank.

Eleven machines gone.  So, it sounds like the machine reduction plan was a success, right?  Not so much.  During the same period of time three more machines showed up to join the herd.  Five if you include the month of October.   But those are a story for another day.

That's it for this year.  I sold everything I had fixed up and ready to go.  I did this last Christmas, and plan to do it next Christmas too, but not during the year. I may let a few go to friends or friends of friends, but I don't want to do CraigsList for more than one month a year.   And people enjoy spending money at Christmas when they are looking for gifts for themselves or others.

Are you wondering how many thousands of dollars I made selling these lovely vintage sewing machines?  Mwahahahahahahaha.  The best models sold for just over what a low end plastic wonder from Walmart costs.  I DID recover my own costs, which I carefully track, right down to my favorite double-ended lint brush and bottle of sewing machine oil with a brass telescoping spout.  I can't in all good conscience sell a sewing machine without these.  And here's the disclaimer about my financial relationship with Jenny at Sew-Classic:  I buy stuff from her.  That's it. 

I don't track the time spent on each machine, but I have a pretty good idea.  If you count ONLY the machines I actually sold, I made less than $3/hour.  If you include all the machines I worked on last year and did not sell, my hourly wage drops to well under $1/hour.  What I have NOT tracked is what I spent last year on tools and cleaning chemicals, paint, etc.  So I'm guessing that it is just about at the break even point.  A self-supporting hobby is not to be sneezed at.

And the money from Christmas 2012 went straight back into the hobby.  I bought some industrial-type steel shelves and rolling carts and converted an unused guest room into a sewing machine workshop.  I bought some tools.  I'll take my MIL out to lunch at Two For Tea, my favorite hyper-girly lunch place. And that will take care of it!

Which brings me to a final confession:  I am going to take some dead sewing machine carcasses to a scrap metal dealer to see what I can get.  A 127 with lots of rust, missing critical parts (and stripped of everything useful).  A completely rusted up 66.  And possibly a White missing some vital organs.  At least they will not be in the landfill.  If you are upset by the thought of them being melted down, well, I'm not.  It's a lovely image.  Think Gollum and Mount Doom. 

Photographing a Singer 301, black longbed

Well, okay, there is another motive for this blog post.  I promised someone some photos of this machine, and the easiest way for me to do that is to throw them on the blog.  But I got a new camera for Christmas so I will be talking about photography.  And it has been a long time since the last blog post and I am feeling chatty.  Welcome back, hope your holidays were fabulous.

Singer 301, black, longbed

Black sewing machines have to be the toughest to photograph. 

I've taken more than one photography-for-absolute-beginners course over the last 40 years, to no noticeable effect.  I have learned a few things though.

Rule #1:  Take skillions of photos and throw most of them away.

I took about 10 photos of the front of this machine, and none of them were much good.  I do like the shadow effect on this one though.

I especially want to show the surface of this machine, which has some issues, before someone drives an hour to see it.  This was a well used and well maintained machine.  The paint still has some gloss, but also has patina.

Rule #2:  Crop.
I think of my photographs as information rather than as art.  No one would think of my photos as art!  Ruthlessly crop that photo right down to the relevant information.

worn clear coat, but not rough to the touch (or the fabric)

You may have to look closely, but this is an amazing photograph.  If only I knew how I achieved it. 

It shows the areas of the bed where the clear coat has worn away, as well as the worn decals in the front.  I think it looks better than this is real life, but my purpose here, the information I needed to convey, was the condition of that clear coat.

Rule #3:  The auto-fix buttons are your friends.
I use PhotoScape, a free image processing program similar to Photoshop.  Or, to be more accurate, similar to Photoshop Express.  There are tons of image processing programs out there.  Your digital camera undoubtedly came with one.  They all include auto-fix features.  The ones I use in PhotoScape are auto level, auto contrast, and backlight.  I click each one on and then off again if it doesn't help.

And now you know everything I know about photography.  And as I fully expected, getting a better camera did not make me a better photographer.  At least Santa did not go all out (the DH and I always pick out our own presents.  One of the great thing about being married for decades is that you work all that stuff out).  It's a step up from the least expensive 14 megapixel one.  But it looks (to my uneducated eye) like the $900 ones.  It's the same shape anyhow.  I feel all empowered by it.  My last camera was a tiny flat one.  Are you convinced by now that I am not a person whose advice about photography should be taken seriously? 

Getting back to the most important things in life, sewing machines and their accessories:  this one comes with lots of lovely toys.

That familiar green Singer attachments box, with a better-than-usual assortment of vintage presser feet.

Back row, left to right:  binder, adjustable hemmer, edge stitcher, ruffler.  Front row:  seam guide, narrow hemmer, shirring foot, adjustable zipper foot.

Automatic zig-zagger with seven cams.

The zig-zagger, the original 4 cams, and 3 out of 4 of an additional set.

The general rap on the boards about automatic zig-zaggers is that they are an amusing toy, but that if you want to zig-zag you should buy a zig-zag sewing machine.  I have road-tested two of these zig-zaggers in the last week and I was pleasantly surprised by the quite decent quality of the zig-zag stitch and the scallop.  You can use the scallop as a blind hem stitch.  Zig-zag and blind hem are the two most useful extra construction stitches you can have, and this attachment transforms the straight-stitch 301. 

It works in much the same way as the buttonholer:  arm up over the needlebar screw, attaches just like any presser foot.  The motion of the needle up and down makes it go.  It moves the fabric back and forth, again in the same way as the buttonholer.  Unlike the buttonholer (feed dogs down), you leave the feed dogs up, which means that you can control the stitch density with the stitch length lever on the sewing machine.  You can also control stitch width with a setting on the side of the attachment--yet another similarity with the buttonholer.

Functional stitches (zig-zag, blind hem):  just fine.  Decorative stitches, not so much.  But I ran these up in a hurry.

And speaking of putting the feed dogs up and down, this is ridiculously easy on a 301.  It's really easy to change the bobbins, too, which is good because they are not very big--same size as the Featherweight bobbins.

Flip the bed extension up and you have access to the bobbin.  Turn the knob to the right to raise or lower the feed dogs.

And speaking of buttonholers:  The Pink Jetson

A slant shank Singer buttonholer, affectionately nicknamed the Pink Jetson for obvious reasons.  Obvious to anyone of ripe and mature years anyway.

There is a Green Jetson also---that one is for low shank machines.




Most of the cam buttonholers are mechanically identical, and most of them, of most brands, were made by Greist.  You do need to have the right shank style.

Five cams make five different sizes of buttonhole

If you have never used a Greist buttonholer you probably hate making buttonholes.  If you have used a buttonholer like this and did not enjoy it, next time use stabilizer--not interfacing, stabilizer.  With a firm foundation these make lovely buttonholes in the twinkle of an eye.


It's original case, funky vintage charm.

Sturdy case, handle and latches seem secure.  The rule of thumb about vintage cases (never, ever trust them as carrying cases) probably does not apply in this case.  First of all, this is a seriously sturdy suitcase-type case.  Mostly though its because the 301 is aluminum (16 pounds) rather than the cast iron of other vintage machines (40 pounds).

Entirely functional, but certainly not in mint condition

I always glance over the suitcases in thrift shops, hoping to spot this trapezoidal shape.  No luck so far.














There is a bracket inside for the motor controller.  It's identical to the brackets in Singer cabinets.

I think the bracket in the upper right is for an oil can.  If you know, drop a line below.

The machine fits neatly into the case.  Note the wooden piece bottom right that holds it in place.  It won't slide around in there.

The space above that wooden brace is just right for the attachments box.  And since it does not have an oil can, the zigzagger fits in there also.

This machine, the case and all the goodies except the buttonholer (I added that) had one previous owner.  I bought it from her daughter, and I don't really consider myself an owner.  I'm just the spa treatment before it moves on to a new owner. 

The daughter told me that this machine was her mom's pride and joy and that she took good care of it.  It has obviously been well used (see the bed wear) but was also obviously well maintained--very clean inside.  It had been sitting unused for decades, but it has now been cleaned, oiled and lubed and turns very smoothly and makes the beautiful stitch that this model is known for.

I love all of the all-metal vintage and antique sewing machines that pass through my hands. I want them all to go to good homes, but really what I want is for each person to have the sewing machine that is the perfect machine for her or him.

The 301 is very popular among vintage-sewing-machine-loving quilters for its beautiful straight stitch and its portability.  Just a few pounds more than that adorable but oh-too-trendy half size machine but the 301 has a full size bed.  So this machine would be perfect for a quilter looking for complete functionality and lots of original vintage goodies but who does not care about cosmetic perfection.  And who wants to be on the cutting edge of vintage:  301 aficionados claim that this is the next big thing.  If only they had that cuteness factor...