Neil decided on a whim yesterday to clean out the boys’ bedroom closet. It was a decision that made me clench, mostly because I know most of the junk in that closet is mine. It’s been there since before the boys were even born. My stuff is safe & cozy in that closet, but most importantly, it’s out of the way.
Well, boys do get bigger, and their things do start to take up more space, and even I can admit that they really need the closet space…
So, over the course of the next 30 minutes, all kinds of things made their way out of that closet (and into piles in the hallway, which are still there, but don’t get me started…arg!) One of the items to be unearthed was this:
Granny’s sewing machine. She gave it to me about 10 years ago, with the suggestion that I get it a tune-up, and then it should be fine. I was still intimidated by the idea of sewing, at that point, and the fact that the machine wasn’t plug-and-play put me off even more. I stuck it in the closet with the plan to give it a try “soon.”
Looking at it now, in it’s late 1960’s glory, I still find it intimidating. I mean, look at all of those knobs and dohickeys sticking out of it! I haven’t a clue what to do with them. However, now that I have a few years of actual sewing under my belt, I am somewhat intrigued. I mean, really. How hard could it be, especially given that I have the instruction manual? I’m seriously thinking of getting that tune-up my grandmother suggested, and giving this thing a try.
I might even unearth the little wooden sewing table that goes with it, which currently lives in the basement under 100 pounds of clutter. Maybe. Let’s not get too crazy now.