My first experience with a sewing machine was using my grandmother's Singer treadle. It was tucked away in the corner of her dining room looking like a table with black iron legs. As if by magic, it opened up to reveal an extension table on the left. The actual machine was pulled from an upside down position to nestle on the top. No electricity was required to sew all sorts of straight stitches using an assortment of bizarre metal attachments such as the ruffler, the zipper foot, and the buttonholer.
I thoroughly enjoyed my stays with Grandmother during many extended periods in the summers while my mother was completing graduate courses at the University of Guadelajara, Mexico. She was an elementary teacher, interested in teaching Spanish.
I thoroughly enjoyed my stays with Grandmother during many extended periods in the summers while my mother was completing graduate courses at the University of Guadelajara, Mexico. She was an elementary teacher, interested in teaching Spanish.
One of the first projects Grandmother and I worked on was her trademark patchwork apron. It was made with about 2-1/2" squares of remnants put together on the diagonal, like this example. The finished apron's shape at the bottom was like a "WW." We added a waistband/tie and all was complete. This was not a quilted or bound item. Later on I learned to add rickrack, the cotton type available in the late '50s, to the outer edges as a finish. Other projects were bed pillows using thick striped pillow ticking which we stuffed with chicken feathers, and simple doll clothes.
Using the treadle started with safety instructions from Grandmother. She reminded me of a relative who had sewn through her finger when she was young- the finger never grew correctly and was always smaller than it should have been. If that doesn't get your attention!
If you've never used a treadle, it's a bit more difficult to describe than to use. There is a thin rubber belt attached to the large wheel at the base that moves on a pulley when you push your foot forward and back on the foot plate. This belt is continuous up to the smaller wheel on the top right of the machine which is where it ends up rotating the needle bar up and down. You must work into a rhythm of the pedaling or else the mechanism will kind of back pedal, causing the wheel to go backwards and either break the thread or the needle. There is a special clunking hum I guess you could say as you sew, and if it doesn't sound right you know something is wrong. I especially enjoyed filling the bobbins. You would disengage the belt and flip up the bobbin refill spool. The machine had a stitch regulator to make your stitches large for basting or small for sewing. Most items made by Grandmother had the tiniest stitches possible. I guess she wanted her creations to last. The stitches were almost impossible to take out if there was a mistake.
If you've never used a treadle, it's a bit more difficult to describe than to use. There is a thin rubber belt attached to the large wheel at the base that moves on a pulley when you push your foot forward and back on the foot plate. This belt is continuous up to the smaller wheel on the top right of the machine which is where it ends up rotating the needle bar up and down. You must work into a rhythm of the pedaling or else the mechanism will kind of back pedal, causing the wheel to go backwards and either break the thread or the needle. There is a special clunking hum I guess you could say as you sew, and if it doesn't sound right you know something is wrong. I especially enjoyed filling the bobbins. You would disengage the belt and flip up the bobbin refill spool. The machine had a stitch regulator to make your stitches large for basting or small for sewing. Most items made by Grandmother had the tiniest stitches possible. I guess she wanted her creations to last. The stitches were almost impossible to take out if there was a mistake.
My grandparents lost their home in the 1960s to the railroad because of rerouting the tracks. The move was hasty and unsettling. They gave away most of their household goods to local neighbors, including the treadle. They even gave the wood frame house which had been hand constructed by my grandfather in the 1930s. The new owners had the house picked up and moved to their property.
When we were living in Washington I enjoyed "antiquing" and there were many wonderful shops in small towns around Puyallup/Tacoma. I saw an old Singer treadle in a lovely oak cabinet which the owner told me had suffered a fire and subsequent water damage. The wooded undercarriage was a bit warped, but the machine didn't appear rusted. I drove a big Chevy van back then and I had room to bring the machine home. It weighed a ton! I found some old instruction and repair manuals and set about to clean and oil the machine. I had to buy a new belt of course but was surprised to find the drawers full of old tools and attachments. It wasn't long before I was treadling away and teaching my young daughters to sew. As a military family we moved quite a few times across oceans, but the treadle always came with us. I have it to this day, but have not used it in a long time.
With a young granddaughter, I guess it's time to open up the Singer and show her the joy of foot power. It's a treasure.
"To everything there is a season...a time to
tear apart and a time to sew together." Ecclesiastes 3:7
With a young granddaughter, I guess it's time to open up the Singer and show her the joy of foot power. It's a treasure.
"To everything there is a season...a time to
tear apart and a time to sew together." Ecclesiastes 3:7