Spring shopping time

I showed a picture of this mock orange last week, but I took the picture too soon. On friday, it really burst open into full bloom and is covered in white flowers.


We went on one of our antiquing jaunts this weekend to the southeast of Austin. In one of the towns we visited, we managed to get this pic of some wildflowers. I forget what Rob said they were. There were fields full of bright yellow and orange flowers and blue bonnets everywhere, but they were all fenced in and we couldn't get pictures good enough to share. I was hoping we'd get one of the very Monet-like shots of the wildflower fields but the camera just wouldn't do them justice.


We didn't have a plan to shop on Saturday, but I needed thread for that wholecloth quilt and that got us all out of the house and Rob brought up antiquing and one thing led to another and we stopped by the house to change our shoes and off we went. He knew I wanted to quilt and so he almost didn't bring it up, but all I cared about was that everyone had a good time and no one argued (remember, we just finished a science project). So, I was good with a little driving and talking and shopping. We had a good time and there were lots of bargains on the things I collect, so I'm really glad he suggested it.

But, the last thing I bought was my favorite. I found another antique sewing machine. We stopped in a junk shop (I can't think of any better description than that). They specialized in purchasing estates and reselling them and the shop was full of the good, the bad, the smelly and the worn out. But, there were some jewels there, too. One was this old girl.

These pictures were taken before I did any cleaning up, except a cursory dusting before bringing her in the house. I walked right past her. She was sitting on the bottom shelf of an almost empty end cap and I didn't look down as I walked around the corner. He saw her as I was paying for the other stuff I'd found and pointed her out. He was fascinated with the hand crank. He'd never seen a machine with one before. She's very clean on the inside and the action was smooth as silk, with just a little clicking that resolved itself with a little oiling and cleaning. There's a bell like ring when the handcrank hits the handwheel and I'm hoping that's because it's missing some kind of washer or grommet that I can get. I spent a good bit of time oiling and lubricating yesterday and Rob has the base so he can glue down a little piece of veneer. I ordered some new parts, like the needle plate and the front bobbin cover plate that were missing or very rusty. She's a Singer model 128 in a bentwood case and she was made in 1913 and is a 3/4 size model of the Singer 128 treadle machine I have and takes the same bobbins and shuttle. It's amazing that she is worth a lot more in parts than she is as a working machine. I could have sold the bobbin shuttle for more than I paid for the machine and if I broke her down and sold the shuttle, the handcrank and the cover plates, I could make more than a 100% profit. I guess some people do that. But, I'd rather have her for what she is. She's been worked hard and used well and also taken good care of. I can't wait to let her make something for me.

I have to point out that we spent our last cash on the other items I bought in that store and Rob had to take me down the road a piece to an ATM and then bring me back to the store so I could buy yet another antique sewing machine. Not sure when I became a collector. I didn't mean to, but these machines keep showing up at the right price when I'm in the mood to buy, so I guess that makes me a collector. We saw some beautiful machines in beautiful cabinets. Machines without a scratch that were selling for a lot more money. But, that's not really the kind of machien I want to collect. I want one that's been used and loved and knows how to sew. I don't mind the scratches or the missing decals. That's what comes from living a good life.

Take care and have a great Monday. I got very far behind reading blogs last week, so I'll be trying to catch up over the next couple of evenings. Don't let anything new happen until I'm caught up on the old. Lane