A Cautionary Tale

Warning:  These are graphic pictures of a Featherweight in extreme duress.

Last week a friend asked me to clean her Featherweight.  She warned me that it had not been cleaned in a while and that several raggedy quilts had been made on her for Christmas.  So I thought I had prepared myself mentally for what was to come.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the case and found an almost completely white machine!  My jaw must have hit the floor!  Luckily, only Dickens was a witness.

Here you see her as I was starting the recovery process.  See on the arm, that black spot?  That's where the linty fibers have been disturbed.  I have partially disassembled her, as evidenced by the miscellaneous parts surrounding her, and the throat plate is off.

I know, it makes you want to hide your eyes and shriek like a soap opera star!

In case you were not horrified enough by the previous picture.

A view from the bottom.  See all the dust clinging to the metal between the feet?

And this is something I had never come across:  When I tipped the machine back, this is what I saw under the hand wheel/bobbin winder area!

I am pleased to say that she survived the recovery process and is now fully functional, lint-free, and shined to within an inch of her life.  New needle, lots of oil and lubricant, a container of canned air--she breathed a sigh of contented relief and purred as she made perfect stitches.

The moral of this story?  When did you last clean your machine--whether a Featherweight or something else?  New needle in the last eight hours of sewing?  Just sayin'.

My motto:  If you can't be a shining example, you can serve as a horrible warning. My horrible warning person has been chastised and has promised to never do this again as long as I keep her identity a secret.

Blissful hugs,
Sharon