Feeling Like a Traitor

I've always loved the look of the old black machines from days gone by. And I truly appreciate their reliability. They were built to last, and they do. I have so many I am embarrassed to tell the number, and I love each one, although some get used more than others.

So, why am I feeling like a traitor? Last week, I attended the Machine Quilters Expo in Portland, Oregon, and took some machine quilting classes. The machines that were provided for us to use were Janome Horizon quilters edition, and I have to say, I really liked the machine. It provided 11 inches from needle to post, more room even than my old reliable Singer 15, 201, 27, and all the others. It came with a whole slew of decorative stitches and it handled all different types of threads without complaint. I used 30 wt, 40 wt, 60 wt, bobbin thread, even metallic thread and that machines just kept chugging along.

The machines used in the classes were being sold at reduced prices, and if I'd had the $$ I would have bought one. A few people in the classes DID buy one. Since I came back, I catch myself mooning over them online, checking prices, comparing features. Still, there's that nagging thought that keeps recurring, about the fact that it is a computerized machine, that surely wouldn't last as long as my old reliable cast iron models have.

Maybe I'm Crazy

I'm one lucky gal. DH was required to visit Switzerland for a month, for business. It was one of those things where you think, please, twist my arm to make me go. Lucky for me, his company agreed to pay for my airfare to accompany him. To Switzerland!  Since it was my first trip outside North America, I had to apply for a passport, which wasn't a big deal.

Switzerland in the spring is breathtaking. There were flowers everywhere, although the mountains were still covered with snow. And the waterfalls! We saw many waterfalls created by melting snow, which in turn created crystal clear streams, rivers, and lakes.

German is the predominant language there, although some French has made it into the everyday spoken language. Being in a country where little of my native language is spoken gave me a very real sense of how immigrants must feel when they come to the United States. The Swiss are very friendly people and always willing to go the extra mile to help whenever possible. Still, not knowing the language made for interesting challenges when it came to food. More than once I ordered food at a restaurant not knowing what I would end up with. It also made grocery shopping and cooking interesting.  Who knows what measure 3 dcl is? Eventually I figured out it is 0.3 liter, which is the amount of tea you get in a restaurant. It's actually printed on the glass with a fill line. I was tempted to buy a local cookbook (if I could find one written in English) but since the measurements were all in liters and grams, my cups and teaspoons wouldn't really work.

So, because we were there for a month, we did our share of sightseeing and exploring. We went to Luzern, happening upon some sort of festival going on. We also went to the capital city of Bern, a busy city which also includes some ancient (by USA standards) architecture alongside modern buildings. On the way back from Bern one day, DH took a little detour  into the city of Thun in search of a gas station, where we discovered a real, authentic castle.  We were tired and hungry at this point, so we decided to come back to Thun another day to explore the castle/museum. The castle was built around 1190 a.d.  and contained some fascinating historical objects, such as armor, weaponry, clothing, furniture. When my oldest grandson saw the photo of me standing in front of the castle, he decided it was Disneyland and was not impressed at all!

Because DH was tied up at work most days, I had time to search for interesting things to do while we were there. I enjoy visiting thrift stores, so when I discovered one in a nearby town, we decided to visit and see what they had available. What we found was a treasure trove of things I would have loved to bring home with me, including pottery, military items, clocks, and even a couple of sewing machines. One of them in particular caught my eye: it was a Naumann hand crank sewing machine that looks very much like a Singer model 27. The price was reasonable, and I had been thinking about adding a hand crank machine to my collection, so I took a picture. Of course, DH didn't like the idea of having to deal with shipping it back to California, so we left it behind. I posted the photo on The Quilting Board, telling about the machine.  Several others encouraged me to get the machine, commenting on the beautiful decals and the fact that it is something not often seen in America.  For the next week, he teased me about visiting a country like Switzerland and wanting to get an old clunker sewing machine. The following weekend, we went back to the thrift store and brought it back to our lodging. Later he took it to arrange for shipping it back home. So far, I haven't found  much information about the machine, such as when it was built. After winding a bobbin with the hand crank, I have decided the machine definitely needs some serious cleaning and oiling before it will be useful. It also needed a needle clamp screw which was generously donated by AshleyR of The Quilting Board. Thank you Ashley!

DH thinks I'm crazy for loving these old machines, and maybe he's right. The fact remains, however, that these old machines were made to LAST, and with proper care and maintenance they will last indefinitely, continuing to sew as well as they did when new. The same cannot be said for today's computerized sewing machines.

Hello, my name is...

Hello, my name is Ginger, and I am a sewing-machine-aholic.  Uh, I mean, a vintage machine enthusiast. That sounds much nicer, doesn't it?  I just can't seem to help myself when I see a vintage machine. I have to look it over, see if it works, check out its attachments and appearance. Most of my acquisitions have occurred while living in California, so I shall blame it on being so far away from friends and family.

Here is my latest "rescue." It's a Singer model 15-91, built in 1934, two years before my mother was born. Obviously, the base it is in is not the original, but it needed something to sit in.

I love these old machines for several reasons. First, and most important, their reliability. These machines were precision made, all steel, and built to last for generations. If they are kept clean, oiled and lubricated, they will work like new for a hundred years or more. Most machines made today cannot make that claim.

Also, I just like their looks; their lovely decals, decorative face plates and sleek shiny surface. Another great feature is the large opening to the right of the needle. Modern machines seem to be much smaller here.  This large opening is important when it comes to making quilts, which is something I enjoy doing. These older machines will sew just about any fabric you can get under the presser foot: anything from silk to denim.

If It Quacks Like a Duck

As I mentioned last time, our Cara Cara orange tree turned out not to be oranges.  So now we have mystery fruit.  The fruit is large, yellow, and the rind is nearly an inch thick. It looks and tastes like an overgrown lemon. Could it be a Ponderosa lemon tree? At first, we thought it might be a pomelo, but most of the information we could find claims that pomelos are sweet.  So, do we have a ponderosa lemon or pomelo tree? We may never know for sure. At right is a picture of our first harvest.

Probably the biggest drawback to this tree is the fact that it will get huge, and has enormous thorns. The other day when I picked them, I ended up with scarred up hands. Guess I should have worn some leather gloves. I'll remember that next time. This was a particular problem when it came time to begin juicing the fruit, because the juice stung every scratch or prick on my hands. Eventually I remembered the cleaning gloves I had bought at the Dollar Tree. They saved the day, and my hands. With some help from my strapping 6'-3" stepson, so far we have frozen about a gallon of juice. 

The cake stuck to the pan,
but it still tastes great!

I have used the juice and zest in recipes as if they were lemon. It tastes just like lemon to me, and the meringue pie and "lemon" pound cake both tasted exactly like lemon.

Now I need to find lots of recipes to use up all this lemony goodness. It surely has lots of vitamin C and other good stuff, so why not?  I can't continue making pies and cakes and other goodies; all of us need to lose some poundage and sweets are counterproductive.

When Life Gives You Lemons

One of my own favorite sayings is "bloom where you're planted."  I try to live by that, even though I've been transplanted a time or two. The latest transplanting took place nearly four years ago when my husband accepted a job in California. The weather here is lovely; there are none of the extremes we experienced in Tulsa, such as ice storms, hail storms, tornadoes, extreme summer heat and humidity. It does get hot here, but with lower humidity it doesn't seem so bad. Our house seems to do a great job of staying cool too.

One of the first things we wanted to do when we moved was to plant some fruit trees. First we planted a Cara Cara orange tree and a Key Lime tree. Next came the cherry tree, which apparently has grafts of several different varieties of cherries. All of these trees are self-pollinating, which means we don't need two of each to get fruit.

After three years, the orange tree was the only one to bloom, but when it did, it was covered with blossoms. We waited excitedly all summer, watching our baby oranges grow. And wow, did they grow! They got huge!  Now they are ripe, ready for harvesting, but something isn't right. They're about the size of a large grapefruit, yellow, and roughly pear-shaped. The nursery where we bought the tree was surprised, and could not identify the type of fruit, but agreed that it definitely was not a Cara Cara orange.

Now for a taste test.  After peeling away about one and a half inches of rind, I got to the juicy, yellow center, which contains lots of seeds. The sections are separated by a very tough membrane which isn't easily pulled away. It tastes a lot like lemon, very tart.

 I included an orange in the photo for comparison. It looks like the tree we have is a pomelo.  Guess I could make some lemonade. Or would that be pomelade?