I'm having flashbacks to junior high gym class. And my job at the title company. And ex-boyfriends. Times when I felt stifled and angry.
I'm sniping at the Sparring Partner, too. Not cool.
In related news (trust me, it is), I acquired two new sewing machines in November, a Singer and another Bernina.
Funny story about the Singer: Tony already had it. He bought it years before we were together, maybe before we even met, because it was an antique in a cool old cabinet, and he liked the cabinet and the machinery. So he's been using it as a nightstand, the whole time we've been married, and I ignored it because I thought it was an antique and too fragile/old/unreliable to do what I wanted, which was leather. Wrong!
Turns out, those old Singer 15 models are tanks. Leatherworkers and upholsterers covet them for their neat stitching and ability to sew through sheet metal. (Ok I'm exaggerating. But not much.) My friendly neighborhood leather guy had one, and as I stood there looking at it, I realized, Hey, that looks familiar...
So I came home and told Tony, and we opened up the nightstand, lifted up that gleaming black-and-gold hunk of metal, and I just laughed and laughed at the serendipity. (Serendipity--a word I've loved ever since it was the title of a sixth-grade reading textbook.) He even had the direct-gear model, which is rarer and tougher than the belt-driven model.
I said, "You are SO my husband!" We looked up the serial number and found it had been made in 1934, and the manuals were available to download. Is it any wonder why I love old machines/technology/companies? I haven't tried sewing on it yet--partly because I'm on "vacation," which means I'm trying to finish up all the oddball stuff I didn't get done the other 10 months of the year. But I can't wait to try it.
The other new machine I bought off Ebay. Same model as Vera Bernina, so all the feet & parts are interchangeable. I had no inkling of this when we bought Vera, since that was another piece of serendipity--picked up cheap, second-hand in a Pfaff store--but the Bernina 930 is another machine that people fight over, hand down, hang onto. The Bernina dealer near me has a waiting list of people who want to buy one secondhand. I overpaid for this new one, but between the two of them, they average out to a bit under market value, so I don't mind. Now I can set up one machine with red, and one with black, and just slide my chair back and forth between them.
I think I'll call this one Ingrid.
The Singer needs a name, too--maybe "Trixie." She reminds me of one of the women from Deadwood.