Remember when I talked about taking a broken sewing needle in the throat and wishing for a new machine? My mom wasn’t just reading, she’d already bought one and had it stashed away. That incredible woman sent it back to Phoenix this weekend with some family friends who were visiting. I picked it up and thought perhaps she’d also packed my collection of Nancy Drew novels, it was so heavy.
No, just the new Swedish beast. I managed to get her out of the box and plugged in. It seriously took three adults to finally find the compartment that contained the feet, which in all fairness we were calling the “foots” after a bit too much wine. Long story short, the new machine has arrived. The Singer is looking on with some serious performance anxiety and frankly I don’t know where to go from here.
Of course the new machine came with an instructional VHS tape, which might as well be an 8-track. I will read the manual and goof around with this until the next visit from my folks.
All said and done, I’m pretty darn lucky. I wonder if I start really wishing for that pony…