A family member has asked for a sleep sound machine this year for Christmas. It was a flashback moment for me because when I was growing up, my mother kept the sewing machine in my bedroom.
I need to preface this even more by saying my bedroom was originally suppose to be a porch when my father was building the house and it became a bedroom when unexpected news arrived in the household. So while it ended up be a fine room, it was small, yet concise.
Also of interest is the fact my room was over the family fruit cellar in the basement. A fruit cellar isn't heated. A cold wood floor combined with the last room of the house to get heat from the oil heater left this room a bit brisk in comparison to the rest of the house. Which all worked out because I slept under a feather tick.
But, back to the sound machine. Growing up, my mother gravitated to the sewing machine when it was my bedtime. I was able to sleep not only with the hum of the sewing machine, but also with the overhead light on and an occasional outcry of frustration when the seam ripper came out. I never minded the sound of the sewing machine. In fact, I found the background noise quite soothing.
A buttonholer makes this wonderful clicking sound as the gears move around the template. It sounds like it is working hard making your job easier and faster. This particular buttonhole attachment doesn't have a single pin scratch on it. ??? I have the feeling it never had the chance to make all those wonderful sounds and beautiful buttonholes which I found fascinating when I was little.
So yes, having a sleep sound machine makes sense to me.
Contemporary fabric designers....stand aside, or even nod your head in admiration of these bold graphics.
I was trying to find the perfect label for it for my Etsy shop and I could only think Art Deco. Yet, the leaves have a bit of a folk art feel to them. I guess this isn't your grandma's usual floral fabric!
No comments:
Post a Comment