My Sewing Machines Are At The Doctor

What does a girl do without her sewing machines? I wouldn't know, I'm facing new territory with them both in for redo at the same time! It's a hard feeling, knowing that you cannot sew. Thank God for repairmen. And yes it was way overdue.

I was free motion quilting, everything going along smashingly, and whack, it just died, stopped, hand wheel seized. Well the goal of finishing the quilt by Thanksgiving, is likely toast. Ah well, there is a method to all of this.

I have been considering getting a fast stitching machine, a 15-1600spm'er. I have yes been thinking on this lots lately. Hopefully my machines didn't hear me and and one decided to die or give up, or just got plain tired of making me happy. As if to say - oh you don't really want me, well, I'll show you!

Sewing machines have distinct personalities; some, one can live with, and some, one cannot. They have temperaments and little sticky stupid hills they want to die on to, and sometimes seem so much like people it is scary.

A sane person would use the time to clean the studio, rearrange, or maybe even cut fabric for a new quilt. I, the philosopher, will think on machines of course.

Do I want to get to know someone new? I imagine tackling a new machine is like dating again after a divorce, and a woman maybe just gets to the point where she just cannot handle men for a while. Or perhaps more like whiney kids, whom you love, but you're just not sure you want to be around them for the rest of the afternoon. So you dole out a fruit strips and pray that Thomas the Train can give you enough break just to gain your balance.

Or maybe the excitement of a new gadget just takes over? For such a creative type, I do love my machines. Strange. I keep waiting for that machine without buttons, some sort of holographic morph out of Star Trek (which yes I would never watch but my husband makes me) and I tell myself, yes that is when I will buy a new machine. A buttonless machine.

And maybe the man upstairs has other plans. I know the tool appears just as the teacher, when one is ready, when one demands good tools. We cling to old hairdryers yes don't we, when their are ceramic/inoic blasts of blissful dryers out there that give us the hairstyle of dreams, so why does sentiment cling like fuzz to the bobbin case of our insanity. Ah yeah?

I like using thread, I was doing so great, emptying spools on this quilt, and now perhaps I need time to think on its completion, and being machineless will give me that space.