Years ago, a colleague gave me his mother’s sewing machine. Dusty and old, it had been hiding in his attic until the day I mentioned that it would be nice to have one. I don’t remember sewing anything “big” though as I would rather repair than create.
Over the last years, patches on J’s jeans became an obligation. Zillions of patches … The machine would be reliable, eager to help, buzzing and humming and sewing what ever I wanted it to sew, its stitches being straight or zig-zag. Occasionally, I would break a needle, but that was it. No serious illnesses.
However, we never became friends. Maybe because the machine is so incredibly heavy: I really hated to drag it out of the basement, to carry it into the kitchen and to set it up on the table. Hence, I would procrastinate my sewing until the pile became high. Finally, when J had no more pants to wear I would start the ordeal. Of course, my little boy had grown in the meantime and his patched jeans would be too short …
Now, why am I writing this? Because I finally decided to find a new home for my 1950s sewing machine by advertising it on eBay for free, looking for someone to convince me that he or she would be the perfect new owner. Within an hour or two a good 20 people responded.
Gut feeling had me decide on a young woman, mother of two, and devoted needlewoman. (After all, that’s what she told me). I really liked the way she wrote, the eMail conversation we had, and (I must admit) I was curious to meet someone called Ritva. Isn’t that a beautiful name? I had never heard that before.
To cut a long story short: an hour ago, Ritva has been here. She seemed to really like the sewing machine, its equipment, and the suitcase that comes with it. Love at first sight. And when she started to praise all the advantages an old machine has as opposed to the newer “plastic” ones, I sort of regretted our breakup.
Have a happy new life Ideal Zick-Zack Deluxe, and thanks for being with me over the last 25 years. I promise, I will remember you every time J rips his pants …