NHR project

I know I haven't had much to say lately, but work has been a real bitch since I got back from Dallas and I really haven't been home much.  When I am home, I tend to be pretty comatose, grouchy, or both.

But, anyway, last Saturday we went to my step-mother's house for a post-Thanksgiving dinner.  Long story short, my father's old friend was there with his wife, and since he is an audio engineer and Rick has been, among other things, a complete audio geek, they got along famously.  At one point, we ended up in the basement going through my father's old audio things (he was an audio engineer as well at one point) to see what was valuable and what was worth a trip to either the thrift shop or the landfill.

As I was standing around, my step-mother pointed to what looked like a ratty, cheap suitcase from the 50s and told me to open it.  I undid a couple of latches near the base, lifted the top up (hitting something on the inside which thwanged loudly), and uncovered an old Singer sewing machine.  You know the kind: black cast iron with lots of gold detailing.  Sweet!

It turns out that this was my great-grandmother's - my paternal grandmother's mother's - sewing machine.  It was the only thing that my father had saved from my grandmother's house when they were going through it, and he had remembered his grandmother using it.

I love these sewing machines for some reason I can't specify, and have actually been casually looking for one.  Here it was, and a family heirloom no less!  After some persuasion (and many promises that I wasn't going to just go and sell it) I got to take it home.

Once home, I used the serial number to discover that it is a model 66 that was attributed to Feb 28, 1922.  It is also basically worthless, as the 66 was the most popular of the Singers and there were so very many of them made.  After looking them up, I can say that mine is from the most ornate version of it, but I don't know if that adds to the value.  It doesn't matter, I'm not in it for the value.  In fact, I'm in it to make it work and sew myself silly on it.

It looks like it was originally a treadle machine that was converted to electric.  66s were available in electric, but I don't know if it was that early (there was another model that was electric at that time), plus I don't believe that the motor/light/pedal is contemporary based on photos.  It was also converted to a portable machine (if something that heavy is portable), as the 66 was not considered portable and I can't find anything with a case like this has.

The cords were also in bad shape, and masking tape was holding down the bobbin cover plate.  When I first lifted the rubberbanded power cord to see what shape it was in, the rubber band fell away in several hard pieces.  Well, that was easy.  As I started to straighten the cord, insulation began to flake off in chunks.  There was also a bend with a bad split near the plug.  The cord for the pedal was in much better shape and still supple, and all-in-all seems much newer than the power cord.

Today Rick and I got a replacement lamp cord to replace the power cord.  They didn't have black, so I went with gold.  Oh yeah, I'm totally pimping the machine.  Once home (stayed away from the horses today thanks to rain that turned to sloppy snow), Rick started to tackle the wiring and I tackled cleaning and figuring out the bobbin plate.

With the motor and light detached, Rick opened the motor to find that the cord leading from it to the light was also losing insulation inside the motor.  Good thing that it was opened up.  He took part of the gold lamp cord (good thing it was 10 ft) to replace it, and had to get out his soldering iron and do some geekery.

At first I thought that the bobbin plate wasn't matching as it didn't want to settle into its spot and behave, but then I realized that it was indeed matching, but I had been going around it the wrong way.  I had to slide it onto the base from the direction of the needle, so I had to remove yet another plate on the base and the needle to be able to get it in the right position.

But, it still didn't work.  It wasn't flush on one side, and I eventually realized that something had nicked the... well... locking groove so that it wouldn't lock all the way and eventually pop out when pushed all the way on.  Luckily, I have some wee little files from my Breyer mod, so that made quick work of the nick and smoothed everything out.  Once done, the plate slid back into place and - for the first time in who knows how many decades - was able to lock in place without tape.

In the meantime, Rick completed his geekery, confirmed everything with his volt meter, and plugged the motor in.  The ancient light bulb (behind its newly cleaned magnifying lens) turned on!  With a light touch of the pedal, the motor turned on and proved to be quite quiet.  Gnarly.

With the motor reattached to the machine and the belt in place connecting the machine to the motor, we tried to see if it worked.  No dice.  Hmmmm...

Oh... it was in bobbin winding mode.  Whoops!

There, it works.  :)

I should probably replace the belt and definitely replace the little rubber tire that winds bobbins (the thing is in terrible shape), but otherwise I have a working 1922 singer!  I just have to print out the owner's manual and learn to thread the bloody thing.

It already has a bobbin in it.  It looks like the last project sewed on it used a salmon colored thread.  There were also several grey hairs on the machine when I took my first good look at it.

I have pictures, but they'll be in another post.