Here she is, in all of her mid-century pink glory. Well, she wasn’t mine actually, not until now anyway. This was my mom’s sewing machine, the first sewing machine that I learned to sew on. It’s an Atlas model from either the late 50s or the early 60s. Mom’s had it as long as I’ve been around, and she never has been able to sew on it. I, however, have never had any problem. Mom gave me her old machine when we were visiting in Florida and we got it shipped up here. The case took a beating in the shipping and the wood broke in a few places, but it’s still usable. The machine, however, is built like a tank and it would take one to do any damage. I started cleaning her up last night and was able to thread the machine and she still sews quite a nice straight stitch. I was thinking last night, I need to make something for mom on “her” machine and send it to her as a surprise. Haven’t quite figure out what yet.
I think we should have a naming competition and give her a name. My car is named Dotty, so we can’t use that one. Peggy? Doris? Eileen? Come on, give me your best shot.