Monday, 18 February 2013


My in laws had this great fridge in their basement. At some point in the past the handle was broken off so you had to open it with this long bolt. The best part of the fridge was the label inside..."It's femineered!". The first time I saw the label, I was slightly offended, but loved the terminology. Femineered. What Mad Man came up with that catch phrase. Is the fridge more appealing and more reliable knowing that it is femineered? Anyways, it makes me laugh.

Well, I am not certain if sewing machines ever got the same label, "It's femineered", but today I ventured out with eager anticipation of purchasing a new to me sewing machine. The machine looks the same vintage as the refrigerator, so what woman wouldn't want it femineered? The sewing store near our condo is quaint and since I don't have a car, I thought this solution would be the easiest. Some of those old machines weighed a ton, but one cannot judge a book by its cover. If this machine can sew a straight stitch, that is all I need for quilting. Happily I purchased a Singer and carried it home. No time like the present. Time to start quilting. My walking quilt foot even works with it. With it set up and ready to go, I start sewing, sort of. It is not working seamlessly, it is causing me much grief, but I press on. I make little adjustments, however I am not certain I have the patience to deal with this. The afternoon has passed and I am finding myself more frustrated by the moment. I am afraid that this machine and I need to part ways.