Sculpey to the Rescue!

I've been having trouble sourcing the right buttons for this year's Halloween costume.  The pattern calls for eight toggle buttons.  I envisioned rolled leather or wood.  I found some items that would have worked, but they were a little over budget.  Costumes can get expensive very quickly.  Sculpey often comes to the rescue.

These are some buttons I found that were close to what I wanted.  The leather option was almost $4 per button.  

For less than a dollar's worth of Premo baking clay (which was already in the craft stash) and about an hour of effort,  I ended up with some passable costume buttons.  The only drawback is that they can't be laundered.  Below are a few photos of the finished product and of the process.

Rachel Revere Costume

School Play for 5th Grade History.  Costume for Rachel Revere.  

Simplicity Pattern 3725

The real Rachel Revere 

Vespa - Singer 301 with a (long) Shot at Redemption

While restoring Vaiden, I purchased a parts machine.  The body was in terrible shape, water damage causing the paint to crack off all the way to the aluminum in one spot.  The inside was caked with a layer of mold.  When I opened the shipping box, I had to take it in the back yard because the mildew odor was so bad.  The drip pan was rusted and warped.

I stripped off the good parts.  What to do with the rest of it?  At this point, we (the machine and I) had nothing to lose, so I decided to paint it and see if I could restore a second Singer 301.  Even though it was in bad shape, it ran better than Vaiden.

I gutted the machine of all wiring and the motor, leaving the internal workings intact (I learned my limits a long time ago when I took the back off a wrist watch.  That could be a whole other post). I scrubbed the body down in warm water to soften the clear coat and get rid of the remaining mildew.

I baked it in the oven to remove all the moisture.  If you are wondering why I did this, don't ask me.  It's Dave McCallum's doing.  It's what he recommends in his great book "The Featherweight 221 and I".   His book and DVD are well worth the money, and his engaging personality really comes through the pages.  It's a fun read in addition to being a helpful reference. He was also kind enough to reply to an email asking for clarification on a point or two.

The color option of this model is reportedly called "Light Beige-Oyster White" or LBOW in the enthusiast blogs.  I was not very fond of the Beige part of this combo.  I already have a black 301, so I needed to pick a good color.

Vespa in seafoam green and white

I've always wanted a Vespa scooter. Not any old Vespa scooter, but a vintage, Sea Foam green scooter.  Our neighborhood and lifestyle are not very well suited to owning a Vespa right now, so I decided that the 301 would be a good stand-in.

I'm not a very good painter, and don't really like taping, painting and sanding, painting, sanding...  (Where is my sister-in-law when I need her??? Rumor has it that she's an expert with a rattle-can).

That said, here is the state of my machine today.  I'm about one or two coats of Krylon Catalina Mist and a few coats of Dupli Color Engine Clear Coat away from a finished body.

I hope the colors will work well together.  The top, front nose, lamp cover and hand wheel are the original off-white, and the body will be green.  The original trim on this model was brown and gold.


In between coats of paint, I've been searching for the hardware for the wiring.  Some of the clamps and connectors are rather specialized.  I've been asking around town with no luck.  Someone recommended the local model car racing hobby store.  That's an errand for another weekend.

Victory - A Singer Featherweight 221

My brother likes to pick up the odd item here and there at estate sales.  When I started quilting, and heard about Featherweights, I asked my brother if he ever came across them.  He told me he already had one - so I offered to buy it.  That was when he told me he couldn't find it.  I sort of believed him... but there is that really great vintage bean-pot that he wouldn't sell me either.  Not that I'm upset about it.

Last Christmas, we drew names.  My brother got mine. He said my gift would be a little late; which is fine.  I figured he's good for it, and I do happen live all the way across the country.  A month or so into the new year, my sister-in-law came to visit.  When she walked in the front door, carrying a black case, I knew exactly what it was!  I was thrilled.  I had images of her running through the airport, trying to make her connection, black case in tow.  God love her soul.  I left the airline tag on it.

This Singer 221 'Featherweight' was made sometime after June 4, 1946.  In the year after the end of World War II.  So I named it Victory in honor of that time when the war was over and people were hopeful of better days ahead.

I'll be restoring this machine for active use as a portable, and not as a collectible.  I think it's in 'middle of the road' condition.  The mechanics seem to still work well.  The motor appears to be in good condition.  Cosmetically it's okay.  The clear coat and decals are worn in places and there is some tape that seems to be fused to the body.  I LOVE it.  It's the best Christmas present from my brother, ever.  And I'm so grateful to him for giving it to me, and my wonderful sister-in-law for flying it across country.  It will take me a while to restore, because Vespa is also on the workbench. It's good to have more than one project going at a time.  Right??

The Story of Vaiden: A Singer 301 Sewing Machine

About 30 years ago, my dad picked up an old sewing machine off a trash pile in Virginia.  He used to do a lot of that... one day I'll have to post about my favorite lamp.  A neighbor, who worked for Singer, told my mother that it was one of the best models that Singer ever made - a 301 slant needle, with an aluminum body.  Light enough to use as a portable, with a special cradle that allowed it to fit inside of a sewing cabinet.  It's also gear driven and can stitch around 1,500 stitches per minutes.

The neighbor told my mother to hang on to this machine, so she did.

When I graduated from college and was still sewing on my great-grandmother's treadle machine, mom tried to give me this machine to use.  At the time, I was not very interested.  It's a straight-stitch only and I had my heart set on a fancy new machine with automatic button holes.  That was when I purchased my Bernina 1020, which I still use today.

While visiting my folks, I decided to take another look at this old machine.  It has been in storage at my parents home for over 20 years.

There are two reasons why I named this one Vaiden, after my grandfather.  The first is that the machine itself reminds me of him.  The style lines are modern and the design is efficient.  The thin hand wheel is flush with the machine, the bobbin winder folds down and the motor is completely enclosed.  It's a very 1950's sort of machine, and he always seemed (to me anyway) like a 1950's sort of guy.

Second, when my grandfather retired, he opened a small engine repair shop.  He was a tinker, my dad is a tinker, my brother is a tinker and I'm a tinker. It's a nice thought that we all like having a project on the workbench and the smell of parts soaking in Kerosene.

Before

Vaiden needed some work.  It was very dirty from being in storage, the finish was dull, and several chrome parts were rusted.  Some parts were missing or broken.  In addition to cosmetic issues, the needle bar was misaligned, which was causing the needle to strike the hook.  Not conducive to good sewing.  I cleaned it up and took care of the mechanical problems as well as I could.  It sews a decent stitch, but I think it needs adjustments beyond my skill. Maybe I'll work on it more some day, but in the meantime, Victory is on the workbench and needs my attention!

After

Vaiden as I remember him, early 1960's

Vaiden at age 14

Good Witch of the North

School Production of Wizard of Oz.  Daughter played Good Witch of the North - a character in the book, but not in the movie.  March 2016

The Story of Lula: A Singer Treadle Sewing Machine

In my last post, I mentioned an old singer treadle sewing machine, owned by my great-grandmother, Lula Rich Carter.  Thinking about the machine made me nostalgic, and I decided to restore it and put it back into service.  This has occupied a great deal of my time over the last few days.  My husband casually asked, "So what's the story with this old machine".

As is often the case, this story starts off with two people who fell in love....

 Addison Carter & Lula Rich Carter

As told by Kathryn Carter Brown

October 1993

These two wonderful people started their life together in a potato house.  Now a potato house was a little “A” shaped building constructed on top of the ground.  It was covered in straw with dirt packed on top.  There was a small door -- just large enough to crawl through.  It was called a potato house because each year when the sweet potatoes were dug, they were stored in there for the winter.

When Addison and Lula decided to get married on September 8, 1915, there were no potatoes in the house.  Because they had decided to slip away together in secret, they came up with a plan.  Lula was to pack her suitcase and hide it in the potato house the night before they eloped and Addison would pick it up before the morning.

On the night of September 7th, Addison crept secretly to the potato house to pick up Lula’s suitcase.   He got down on his knees to crawl in and the first thing he felt was a shoe!  He thought that Lula’s father had discovered their plan and was waiting for him in the potato house. Addison thought he was in big trouble.  He got out of that potato house faster than he went in and left the suitcase behind.

After he calmed down a bit, Addison finally got up the nerve to go back in again.  What he found was that his future wife had so many clothes that she could not fit them all in the suitcase.  She had tied her shoes onto the handle!

*   *   *

In 1918, Lula purchased a used Singer Treadle sewing machine.  It was a model 127 and was manufactured in Singer's facility in Elizabeth, NJ sometime after December 1915.

Singer Factory in Elizabeth, NJ

No one remembers how much she paid for the machine, but based on records of the time, it likely would have been around $25 to $30, which is equal to about $580 to $690 in today's market.  This was clearly an important purchase.  Lula used this machine to make clothes for the family for many, many years.  She passed away on January 14, 1967 at the age of 80.  

When I was a small child, I would visit my grandparents and I was fascinated by the treadle.  The oak veneers were chipping off the top, and the leather belt which drove the machine had long since broken.  It is unknown how long the machine had been idle before I took an interest.  On one visit, I pestered my family to the point that they asked my mother's cousin to come over and fix the machine.  He came over one evening, installed a new leather belt and the machine worked just fine.  I was thrilled.  My new favorite past time at my grandparents' house was sewing on this old treadle machine.

In 1983, my grandfather passed away and my mother and her siblings gathered to distribute the household possessions.  My mother asked if she could have the sewing machine for me.  No one objected, and I'm now very privileged to own this machine.  My father and I restored the cabinet and metal frame in the summer of 1983.  I stripped and refinished the wood and metal parts of the cabinet, my dad installed a new oak veneer on the top.  There is a deep gouge in the cabinet, and I did not repair it.  My mother believes it was carved by her brother, Addison, who passed away in 1955 from a firearm accident.  He was seventeen years old.

I used the machine until 1988, when I purchased a new Bernina sewing machine.  I eventually removed the old singer machine from the cabinet.  The cabinet traveled with me as I moved first to Pennsylvania and then to California.  The machine remained in my parents attic for over 20 years.  This past Thanksgiving, we boxed up the machine and shipped it to California.  It's been on my workbench for almost two weeks, and I'm very close to getting it back into service.  I've started calling it "Lula", in memory of the remarkable woman who sewed for her family for many years.

"Lula"- partially disassembled and before any cleaning.