So a couple of weekends ago I went out with friends and had a terrible time. Finally got back to my own home at 3am, looking forward to getting up at 6 to drive to Des Moines and look at houses with my Brotherling and his fiance.
Needless to say, I'm short on sleep and in a bad mood.
After lunch, we get back to Brotherling's fiance's mom's ("K's") house, and Brotherling emerges from the garage toting a Turkish spindle. "Hey, sis, do you use needles like this?"
cue the drooling. "First off, it's a spindle, and yes, yes I do."
"Well, hey, we've got this huge box of random crap from [fiance's] aunt who just died. You can have whatever you think you might use."
This is what I got:
There's a few things in the upper right-hand corner that I'm not real sure what they are. I know I've got a darning egg and some lace bobbins. but the smaller stuff... no idea. In any case, pretty awesome haul for free stuff! (I offered to pay for some of it, pointing out that one of the Turkish spindles has a $50 tag on it and the three other bottom-whorls are marked between $20 and $30 a piece... K said she'd rather give them to someone who would appreciate them.)
But, oh, there's more! "Oh, and would you have any use for an old sewing machine?"
"Well... two questions: one, does it work, and two, how old is it?" There's two definitions of old, in this case: 1) old enough to be falling apart or 2) old enough to have been made to last for-freaking-ever, you could throw this thing off a highrise and still use it.
"It worked at some point... and it's a Singer. Don't know how old."
Let me point this out: I have a sewing machine, and it is a POS. I wind up ripping out almost half of my seams. The first time I saw someone sewing on an antique (non-electric) Singer, I thought "Why would you want one of those?" but now I know: They're workhorses and they were made to last. And dang. I want one.
So Brotherling unburied the sewing machine for me to check it out. It's old. Treadle-driven. Built into a desk that still has all of its drawers. The wood needs sanded down and re-finished, but otherwise it's in beautiful condition. I don't know what it's worth, but I know it's more than I could afford (given that I'm dead broke). And this little beauty is also mine for the low, low price of begging Brotherling or Dad to load it up and bring it home next time they don't have psycho-dog in the back of the vehicle.
As it turns out, it wasn't a bad weekend after all!