Mom's Sewing Machine

I learned to sew on this machine... 
[Photo:  Betty Jean Short Thorsvig]
Earlier today, my sister Betty posted about our mother's old Singer sewing machine.  Mom passed it on to Betty, and over the years it has served (and still does) her well.  They don't make 'em like that anymore. It's the one I learned on.

Workhorses, that's what the old Singers are.  Solid metal throughout, working parts made with clockwork precision.  My Mom always said, keep it clean and well-oiled, and it'll serve you all your life.  But they're more than workhorses - they are things of beauty.
I remember when I joined the Humboldt Stick-to-It 4-H club.  I was 9 years old, and I did two projects - food and sewing.  For sewing, I had to demonstrate I had learned the goals of the project by sewing a simple garment;  I chose an apron.  I was entering the strange world where you had to measure once then measure again, and precision was preached.  Exactness was the gospel, and nothing less than aspiring to (and hopefully achieving) excellence would do.  There were right and wrong sides to fabric, you did not 'go against the grain'.  If you were daring enough to choose a complex pattern, you soon learned the art of matching  so a pocket would blend in like camouflage.  Inset sleeves and zippers were years away.

I completed that apron - a purple, green and white floral calico print - on my mother's old Singer.