1.1.11 Pedal to the Metal

Happy 2011 chaps!  I trust you had a suitably riotous time/civilised sip of champagne/nice cuppa tea and a biscuit* 
*delete where applicable 

I had a quite extraordinary New Year’s Eve.

I did a little socialising earlier in the day, but as my year had been far from meriting reflection, I decided to bow out of any mad revelry this year.  

So, I cooked a fab roast lamb, parsnip and red cabbage supper (bliss of lunh today too!) popped some fizz (Lynne over at Lily’s Quilts says her Dad calls it Fizziotherapy!)  and then settled into a relaxing time cutting & sewing a quilt for me. spent a couple of hours with a screwdriver and an increasing feeling of desperation.

10.00 pm - Damiel my beloved Novum flipped out on me - pedal to the metal with NO FOOT ON THE PEDAL!  Yup, the treadle finally gave way (after c. 62 years of action, granted) and was just stuck on GO.




Sheesh!  I’m telling you, it was scary.  He’s noisy at the best of times, being entirely metal, but this was wild!  So, I unplugged him, unscrewed the treadle, farted about a bit, put it back together and … 

11.00 pm … still stuck on GO. When the lights started to flicker in my sitting room I thought “Uh-oh … what if I were about to blow the whole street out?”  Not a good move for neighbourly love on New Year’s Eve, you’ll agree. It was like a quilter’s version of the movie Speed.

Well, I tell you, I was buggered if I was going to see in 2011 with no bloomin sewing machine, so I hauled Mrs Singer (she’s a bit of a mumsy 1970s affair) in from the hall, where she was just two steps away from being freecycled - some months ago the presser foot lever just fell out and I was quoted silly money to mend her, hence the acquisition of Damiel in the first place.



Determined not to be beaten, I took the whole front gubbins off and eventually found a little lost screw …

11.30 pm … fingers, machine and face smeared in machine grease I finally worked it out!  I refitted the lever! 
 Yay!

11.55 pm I tuned into the radio, ready to hear Big Ben chiming in the New Year.  I threaded her up.  She spluttered into action a tad grumpily but sewed like a dream!  (It might well be the dream of a slightly deranged menopausal woman, but hey, she’s a lot quieter than the boy racer) …

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

 

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

Happy New Year!

The moral of this tale:   Never give up on old friends - sometimes they come back into your life when you least expect it and fill your day with joy!

Mrs S and I are going to settle down with a nice cuppa celebrate with some Fizziotherapy and get re-acquainted while I sew my Quilt of Good Intentions.