There’s something about the simplicity of my old Singer Sewing machine that I like. I haven’t used it in so long, I was expecting to be frustrated by it. But when it started to slowly chug along, making that thunk thunk noise, it felt good. Like deliberately walking slowly and purposefully. I can actually feel the needle go up and down, not in a blur, quick hum, like my Viking. It’s as if I can feel the mechanisms of the machine at work, gears turning, wheels spinning, like a primitive pulley system powered by a foot treadle.
I picked up my Viking today. It’s all clean and ready to be used again. It’s good to have it back, but I felt a little sad unplugging my Singer and sliding it under my desk. Not sad enough to use it instead of my Viking, which is fast and easy in so many ways.
In the past I’ve thought of getting rid of my Singer. Giving it to someone who doesn’t have a sewing machine and could use it. But now I know I’ll keep it. Not only because I might need it someday, but because I like it. I have a feeling that it’s the kind of machine that could last forever. The kind of machine that will never give up.