Mrs. Seaboyer
February 21, 2012
With a name like Seaboyer you might imagine this to be the beginning of a really good seaside tale. And there are probably a lot of riveting stories related to that name but this story is about a sewing machine.
I don't really need a sewing machine. To be a little more precise, I don't need another sewing machine. I have a really good one that my mom gave me when I was probably twenty. But then Emily started to get the sewing bug and I thought it would be great for her to have one of her own that she could keep in her room. That's when I bought myself an old Singer sewing machine. It goes forwards and backwards, nothing fancy, and it hums all the while. I've been meaning to show it to you but more pressing matters took centre stage and I didn't get around to it. That's when Mrs. Seaboyer's machine entered my life.
In its unassuming way, it taunted me from the cavernous opening of the antique store at the side of the road. I even managed to drive by it the first time. But the second time past proved to be too much and we pulled over to get a look. Not to buy. Just to look. I got up nice and close, turned the wheel, made the treadle run, folded the machine into the table and back out again. I could feel my resolve starting to sway. And then in an irreversible twist of fate I opened the drawers. They were crammed. All of them. Right to the top with papers and threads and buttons and bits and bobs and I couldn't just leave it there. In the blink of an eye it was strapped in the back of the truck and we were off to the ferry. In order to make it look a little less like I have no spine when it comes to old machines in need of a home, I thought Geneva might like to have a sewing machine of her own in her room. I'm a very good guesser and now I can say I picked up the machine for her and not for me. Wink.
We spent two nights emptying the contents of that drawer and carefully picking through the remains of Mrs. Seaboyer's sewing career. There was plenty of junk. But no self-respecting seamstress has that many drawers without collecting a little junk.
With the debris set aside we were free to examine the treasures. The piece of paper with Mrs. Seaboyer's name on it was a package wrapper that she had cut to make some doll clothes patterns. There were a lot of doll clothes patterns in the stash. And while I don't believe that photo to be of Mrs. Seaboyer herself, it was likely the original owner of the machine which was manufactured in 1909. I could be way off but it's so much fun to try and piece the story together.
We found the original owner's manual and attachment manual. They aren't in good shape and different sections were found in different drawers but I've already learned a lot from carefully turning those brittle pages. The original oil can that was listed in the manual on the parts list and all of the feet were found amongst the rubble. I'm still trying to identify what all those feet are for. Maybe one day I'll even figure out how they work. There were two cloth measuring tapes. The larger of the two is my favourite. I'm not sure if you can tell from the photo but it's double-sided. It starts at number one on each end so it doesn't matter which end you grab. Why on earth did they ever stop making tape measures that way? Of course there were also a few spools of thread and they're in the most dreamy colours. There were a few zippers. Some special buttons. Some rick rack which is much ziggier than the new stuff you buy now. And in the corner of the photograph is the most precious piece of white edging. Can you see it? Well, that's all there is. It's such a shame that it's only a couple of inches long. Maybe I'll be able to use it on the edge of a pocket. Who knows. And a fine assortment of keys scattered throughout. One of them is even for locking and unlocking the drawers. Amazing that it was still with the machine.
After finishing my shop, I wasn't really looking for another project but it found me. And it found Geneva. We're working at cleaning it up together. I can't wait for you to see the transformation. It's already looking a million times better.
