This sewing machine was my Aunt June's. The built in light is out (hence the obnoxious desk lamp in the background), the feeder dogs are lazy at best, and I've already managed to break a needle. I love this machine.
I still don't really know what I'm doing, but I do know how to thread it and how hypothetically I should wind a bobbin. Except I don't have enough umph to turn the stupid release yet. All in good time I suppose...
I've wasted a lot of thread in the last two days. I've failed a lot in general, actually. But you know what? Sewing makes me happy. I can't really understand why I am not frustrated (I guess that's what chemistry is for) or why I am not angry at my poor, tired, machine (that's what old politicians are for), but I am not either of those things. Its rather nice.
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