Growing up, I experienced periods of living without electricity. Before Dad bought us our copper colored electric washer and dryer, I was allowed to go down to the river and get water for washing clothes in the summer. In the ‘60’s, many summer week-ends were spent clearing land and building a cabin without electricity or running water. When it was finished, kerosene lamps lit our evenings. Mom cooked over the fireplace. And I learned about the loveliness of a stack of sticky gooey marshmallows cooked over the embers left from dinner.
But, I never enjoyed rustic living, and by the time Sunday rolled around, I couldn’t wait to get back to our modern house. I could grab something to eat from the refrigerator. I could play one of my two ‘45’s on our stereo. More important, I could sew using my Mom’s coveted Free Westinghouse electric sewing machine.
Over the years, I began to collect sewing machines. They were all,
of course, electric. Some had electronic components which included built-in embroidery capabilities. Those machines provided and still provide hours of creativity and entertainment.
Then in the midst of a rather bleak and unhappy Minnesota winter in Coon Rapids, I began, out of boredom, to scour eBay for used sewing machines. I purchased a Swiss made Elna machine, identical to one that I already had. Disappointed that the machine did not work properly, I realized that anything I bought on line would be risky. But, I continued to look.
Somehow, I turned my eBay browsing into a search for a hand crank, non-electric sewing machine. So many choices! And so much history--of the machine itself and of its users. My mind wandered. Where was the machine made? How was it used?
My wandering mind went even further. Did you hear the one about the two hand crank sewing machines waiting to be adopted? If sewing machines could only talk…
“Hey, I heard she’s looking for a good non-electric hand crank,” said the graphite crinkle finish machine to the shiny black model.
“Oh yeah? “said the glossy machine, spit polishing his backside.
“Yeah. And I’m a strong contender. You know, I’ve got that locked in tension, smooth cranking ability and I can sew through just about anything," said one machine to the other. “And I do have the original historical shuttle bobbin which provides a lot more history than you ever will.”
“Well, youth is in these days. She’ll probably like my shiny black exterior much better than your dull grey. And since my conversion from electric to hand crank, I can also sew through almost anything. Though, I am a bit tense at times, especially with those soft, breakable vintage threads some people use.”
“I think she’ll flip for my unique shuttle bobbin. And, I’ve never been a traitor to my vintage nature like you, you hand crank convert. I’m an original, never electric, dyed in the wool hand crank machine. So, excuse me while I oil up and polish all my grey crinkles.”
That, was the beginning of my collection of old, worn out looking, previously used by who knows whom, for whatever reason, hand crank antique sewing machines. It’s as if the disdain I felt all my life toward anything old melted away. I quickly became a contented hand crank convert.
I am a fan of electricity. In fact, I take it for granted that it will always be available. But, what if, on any particularly bleak day the electricity goes out for hours at a time? I could use a cooler to keep my almond milk cool. I could hand wash my clothes and then hang them up to dry. I could make a hot meal on my gas stove.
of course, electric. Some had electronic components which included built-in embroidery capabilities. Those machines provided and still provide hours of creativity and entertainment.
Then in the midst of a rather bleak and unhappy Minnesota winter in Coon Rapids, I began, out of boredom, to scour eBay for used sewing machines. I purchased a Swiss made Elna machine, identical to one that I already had. Disappointed that the machine did not work properly, I realized that anything I bought on line would be risky. But, I continued to look.
Somehow, I turned my eBay browsing into a search for a hand crank, non-electric sewing machine. So many choices! And so much history--of the machine itself and of its users. My mind wandered. Where was the machine made? How was it used?
My wandering mind went even further. Did you hear the one about the two hand crank sewing machines waiting to be adopted? If sewing machines could only talk…
“Hey, I heard she’s looking for a good non-electric hand crank,” said the graphite crinkle finish machine to the shiny black model.
“Oh yeah? “said the glossy machine, spit polishing his backside.
“Yeah. And I’m a strong contender. You know, I’ve got that locked in tension, smooth cranking ability and I can sew through just about anything," said one machine to the other. “And I do have the original historical shuttle bobbin which provides a lot more history than you ever will.”
“Well, youth is in these days. She’ll probably like my shiny black exterior much better than your dull grey. And since my conversion from electric to hand crank, I can also sew through almost anything. Though, I am a bit tense at times, especially with those soft, breakable vintage threads some people use.”
“I think she’ll flip for my unique shuttle bobbin. And, I’ve never been a traitor to my vintage nature like you, you hand crank convert. I’m an original, never electric, dyed in the wool hand crank machine. So, excuse me while I oil up and polish all my grey crinkles.”
That, was the beginning of my collection of old, worn out looking, previously used by who knows whom, for whatever reason, hand crank antique sewing machines. It’s as if the disdain I felt all my life toward anything old melted away. I quickly became a contented hand crank convert.
I am a fan of electricity. In fact, I take it for granted that it will always be available. But, what if, on any particularly bleak day the electricity goes out for hours at a time? I could use a cooler to keep my almond milk cool. I could hand wash my clothes and then hang them up to dry. I could make a hot meal on my gas stove.
By the way, I recently purchased an electric Free Westinghouse sewing machine similar to the one I grew up using. Ah, heaven on earth--truly.
Mayr Boros, (RDN, LD) semi-retired Registered Dietitian
Nutritionist from St. Paul, MN is the author of The Dance of Creation: Labyrinths of Healing Prayer and Art (2014, Good Ground Press), and Lillian Fontaine, a short murder mystery recently published in Cooked to Death, Vol. IV, Rhonda Gilliland, Editor, 2019.
Mayr Boros |
Mayr has written for numerous publications including: Face Aging Minnesota, church newsletters, professional trade journals, Women’s Press, and in her 30’s was talent for a cable television spot that featured nutrition.
She is the founder of A Bear and Prayer, which distributed hand-made teddy bears to many children and adults over a ten year period.
Mayr is currently studying creative writing and is working on a series of children’s stories that feature baking as a way to connect the generations. She loves sewing, painting with watercolors, walking, and spending time with her two daughters. Her cat, Twinkle the Torte Wonder Cat, runs the house. You can connect with Mayr by clicking the link below.
What a fascinating hobby. I've never seen a hand crank sewing machine. Thank you for sharing with us.
ReplyDeleteIt's a lot of fun. Let me know if you ever try one. We can compare notes.
DeleteI used to have a treadle machine but had to sell it because of moving to a smaller house. I have never seen a handcrank machine. Is it hard to guide the material? Your childhood background at cabin was eye opening.
ReplyDeleteLots of love, Aunt Joyce
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ReplyDeleteGreat thanks for sharing this article. Keep writing.חברת חשמל העברת חשבון
ReplyDeleteFantastic blog post. Really thank you! Cool. החלפת חשבון חשמל
ReplyDelete