Sewing Machine Table Redo

I inherited a sewing machine from my old friend, Barbara. 

The machine belonged to her mother, so I knew it was ancient.    Turns out it was made in 1926 and the machine alone sold for about $60.00.   That doesn't seem like much until you consider the wages back in the day - the machine would have cost a few months' wages.   For frugal Yankees, this was not an impulse purchase.

Here it is in its former state - a lovely table that needed a bit of TLC.   The veneer on the top had split and some was missing , and the metal base was rusted in spots.  But the drawers were gorgeous, the metal base all intact and the top salvageable.

I started ( with the help of The Captain) by taking out the machine  and all the other guts - springs, cords, and the wooden casing that housed the machine.  I wanted to make the table as sleek as possible, so the front decorative board and the one of the top center boards had to go.

I was able to pry off most of the peeling veneer.   The rest of the veneer was in reasonable shape - a few patches with wood filler smoothed out where I had chipped off some of the loose stuff.

The metal base was in good shape - a few rusty spots that cleaned up well with a stiff metal brush.    I sprayed it with  charcoal gray paint - love the dark gray , almost black color that is sort-of, but not too shiny.

Considering that a sewing machine  wasn't made as a family heirloom but as a functional machine for home sewers, the craftsmanship is amazing - all kinds of decorative details.

I experimented with the top.  I wanted a matte, chalky finish but didn't want to spring for chalk paint. I have used Annie Sloan chalk paint and liked it, but not sure it was worth the cost.  Since this was a small project, I used a flat white paint and finished it withe Minwax.   Honestly, I can't tell the difference in this knock-off chalk finish and the real deal.

A bit of sanding to add some distressing and done.

Decorative detail on the sides of the table.

The drawers are beautiful !  I had planned to paint them, but couldn't bear to cover up all that detail.  I  did have to refinish them because the liquid sander I used to clean them up bubbled the old varnish.  Then I had to strip off the bubbly mess and of course the color came with it.   Some new stain and wax  brought them back to life.

Thank you, frugal Yankee women for taking good care of this gem.

Postal Art by Shiela

My friend, Shiela (yes, that's how her mom spelled it), is my inspiration.   She's been making beautiful art for a long time and encouraged me to give it a try.   She can do it all - paint, draw and make perfectly executed cards and scrapbook layouts.

Here we are a few years ago after a seriously messy art project on her lawn. Miraculously, I didn't get any paint on that white shirt!

She is also the queen of mail art, so it's always a treat to get packages from her,   This is her signature postage method:

She has a notebook full of stamps of all denominations and a postal scale so she can calculate the amount due. (She doesn't always use a flat rate box!).    Once she knows how much the package will cost to mail, she starts selecting and pasting on stamps.  She calculates  so accurately that her post office staff hardly ever checks her math .   Because she has a small fortune invested in postage stamps, she rarely uses the same stamp more than once on a package.  

I love the mix of stamps - the artsy ones  next to Calvin and Hobbes, the  Hawaiian  shirt next to the fancy wedding cake.   And instead of competing, all those bright colors somehow work.   I think the only part that Shiela plans is that she always makes an L -shaped layout, because that allows room for all the stamps and still enough for the address.

I think it's a hoot that the Post Office has to put the bar code sticker on, even though there is no postage due - notice the price on the bar-code: $0.00.  I also love that my post office staff is very careful not to cover up any of my mail art with that silly sticker - like the one above put carefully over to the left and not covering the stamps.

Like any art supply hoarder, I think all this postal goodness is too good to throw away!   I've been  carefully cutting out the  lay-outs in one piece to use in my projects, like in this this DIY  travel mug that  I got it in the sale bin at Starbucks.

I glued on the stamp assemblage to some background paper and  added a few stamped images to make this happy mug.  Word of advice about these mugs - pretty sure the seal isn't waterproof, so I brushed some rubber cement on the inside where the pieces screw together, top and bottom, before screwing it on to make a better seal.  Just to be on the safe side, I don't let the cup soak in any water - just a quick swish to clean it and done.

I used the stamp arrangement above in this calendar page as an homage to Shiela's talent.  She is way more adventurous with color than I am, and this page celebrates not only her prowess at calculating postage, but her love of color and pattern.

I wanted the stamps to be center stage here, so I kept it simple.  I used an order form from an old fiber arts catalog I snagged at an estate sale as a background to keep the mail theme going and then added some mailing directions  stamps.  (If I use these on actual packages, I always add "please" so the postal workers don't think I'm being too darn bossy).    I glued a piece of under paper - scrap paper with leftover brayer paint  -  to a chipboard butterfly.   There is a butterfly postage stamp to the right' otherwise no real connection to postage, but I love the colors and the blank space needed something.  I needed one more stamp to fill out the top right, so added one from an old envelope.   Plus I love the circle stamp and cancellation marks.

Love, love all these postage stamps.  Next time I go to DC, I am spending more time at the Postal Museum - pretty sure I'll have to go there alone.  DC son and The Captain were not all that enthusiastic when I dragged them in - go figure!

Broken Nose - The Bright Side

I fell this week and did a face-plant in the parking lot.  (The first thing I did after extricating my face was to look around to see if anyone had witnessed my klutz act).  Let me tell you something, a broken nose isn't one of those attractive, socially acceptable type of mishaps - you know, the kind where no one can actually see the damages, but can be effusive in their sympathy.    Nasal fractures are the yucky kind of injury, and and  the yuckiness is out on full display.  Plus, every single person who expressed their horror and concern about my injury did so through poorly suppressed laughter - even those people that I brought into this world!  Something about splatting your face on the pavement is apparently very funny!

But, in a rare moment of Pollyana-ishness, I've realized that even busted noses have a bright side.  I've been blessed with some great friends, wonderful kids (the above-mentioned laughter infraction notwithstanding) and a supportive Captain who made this unpleasantness bearable.  The Captain  waited on me, shuttled me to various appointments and brought chocolate goodies when he thought I had reached the end of my tether!  I've been showered with all kinds of well-wishes.

My friend Fran sent a box with these directions:



And inside, all kinds of goodies for pampering - tea, cookies, eye mask (actually a fantastic idea for any eye/nose problem needing the power of COLD), manicure stuff and some great sunglasses to hide behind. 

A big envelope came from Boston daughter  that made me laugh out loud when I opened it :

What do you get for someone who has busted their nose?  Some replacements, of course!  And glasses, complete with noses!  And chocolate, because she knows her mother very well.



Gift certificates, fancy flowers from coworkers - a girl could get used to all this attention!

While I love all the goodies, I'm most happy that I have such kind and thoughtful people in my life.  Acts of kindness make us all better people and the world a better place.   Me and my poor nose are feeling the love.





Goodbye, My Friend

I lost an old friend recently.   We were an unlikely pair.   I moved into an apartment in her farm house at 19, recently graduated from high school,  newly married and ready to start college.  She was 47, never married, a former egg farmer and an eccentric Yankee.    

Barbara  was a one-of-a kind woman.  She was handier around machinery than most men, made frugality an art-form, was a tidy hoarder, hated change, had a great, if slightly odd, sense of humor, could eat more than a farm hand , had very definite ideas about things, and would try most anything once.  She loved anything with a motor!  I can still see her riding the neighbor's snow mobile- her 6 foot frame crammed into the seat, legs bent to her chin, hair flying and a look of absolute joy on her face.

She had a wonderful  old Yankee way of talking.  She talked about having "gumption" - a trait she valued highly.  When I'd obsess about some minor imperfection, she'd offer this insight:  "Dear, it'll never be seen on a trotting horse".  

My oldest son and daughter were born while I lived in her house.  Carpenter Son followed her around the farm; she called him "Boy" and talked to him as if he were a grown-up. She was the one who scooped him up when he ran out into the busy road. She ate all of their cooking creations, even when I warned her not to!

I worked on dragging her into the current century.  Once while we were on a road trip I decided to go through the drive-up window at  McDonald's.  As I pulled up to the  window, she remarked ,"Dear, you're driving really close to the building" - she had never been through a drive-up window and never had fast food.  It didn't take long for her to become very fond of french fries!  We worked on updating her wardrobe so it would only be a couple of decades out of style.  While she didn't really care how old her clothes were, she was very concerned about how they fit.  I started making some dresses for her and honestly, I doubt The Queen Mother had as many fittings!

She taught me so many things - how to make the best-ever creamed corn, how to identify spots to harvest fiddlehead ferns, how to enjoy an entire Cadbury chocolate bar on the drive home from work at midnight, how being kind looks, what it really means to turn the other cheek, and how to dust yourself off and move on.

I think I began my fascination with  old and shabby  vintage things while I lived with her.  We'd spend hours going through old family photos - she knew how everyone was related, down to the "second cousin, twice-removed".  There were several outbuildings on the farm, full of stuff she knew would be useful someday.  I never knew that people repaired metal pails until she unearthed several and was not amused at my suggestion to just throw them out and get new ones.  This great window-turned-mirror  was from one of her chicken coops.  She did not understand why on earth I'd put it in my house!  I love it, not only for the great arched shape, but because it reminds me of her.

What really made her special was her kindness, her sense of humor and her reluctance to ever say anything bad about anyone. She gave life to the word "humility" and lived to help others.  She embraced me with all my faults, was a kind and loyal friend for decades, and I'll miss her.