Several of you predicted that it would be one of the nylon gears under the sewing arm of my Mom’s Singer 534.
You were right. I’ve located the part and the installation instructions and I’m about to pull the trigger on replacing that. I’ve only hesitated because I can’t find the timing instructions for free and haven’t given up and paid for the service manual yet. If I have to take the machine in to have it timed, that’s okay. It is kind of an heirloom. But, of course, I’ll try timing it myself, because I’m cheap. I don’t need to deny it. I’m cheap.
Unfortunately, I think I might have been a big contributor to the demise of the original nylon gear. I made a real beginner’s mistake. I oiled from the top down, and before I oiled from the bottom up, I tried to use the machine. I could tell it was in a bind and working hard. It hadn’t been used or oiled in a long time and I should have started with a thorough oiling all around, and then tested the machine. Instead, I oiled the top and used my test sewing to determine where to work next, and I just didn’t get under the machine fast enough. Well, that and I don’t know how many years it had been in the cabinet, unused.
I love to tinker with machines and this will be just another challenge.
Rob took a video of my garden over the weekend. Just a short bit of what was going on out there before the rains started.
Here’s a link.
And, I noticed that he took a video last year, almost to the day, so I’m linking it here, too. It’s a bit longer.
Okay, that is it for me today. No big sewing. I’m finishing up a hand quilting project that I can’t share yet and spending every spare minute on it.
Sydney went to an awards banquet and won an award…at least I think it’s an award. “You want sass? I’ll give you sass!” It came with a certificate and a speech and everything. The small print says “For never pulling her punches and always speaking her mind, which is a rarer quality than some might think.”
We taught her that.
I wish we’d been more careful cuz that stuff comes back and bites you in the butt, sometimes, like when she repeats my words back at me.
Be well. Lane