Laughter is an instant vacation.
Milton Berle
Remember I was telling you about the sewing frenzy taking place around here? Shortly after I wrote about that my trusty Janome threw a hissy fit. I reacted calmly and set about replacing needles and re threading and in a desperate move, cleaned that bobbin area which required unscrewing the plate and pfaffing about with the brush. It was at this point the crisis began. Those wily feed dogs wrapped their tails about their legs and wouldn't go back up. The manual clearly states that for normal sewing to occur the feed dogs must be up - and they weren't. After frantic jiggling, unscrewing, re screwing and gentle coaxing they were still down.
There was no calmness by this stage. Mr Button found me hyperventilating, gesticulating at the 80+ pieces of sewing still needing to be done and laughing maniacally while I rocked back and forth in my chair. Luckily he had his wits about him and suggested we email the sewing machine repair man who lives in our neighbourhood. I shot off an impassioned email detailing the problems, the urgency with which the machine was required and begged for his help. I believe I may have offered to mow his lawn, bake Christmas dinner and give him a pedicure but the details are a bit hazy.
My cry for help sent to cyberspace, I returned to the machine for another look and as I switched it back on, low and behold, the feed dogs were at attention. I asked no questions but threw myself into my work and, to be honest, totally forgot about the repair man.
He phoned today obviously prompted by the urgent tone of my email. I had to report that at this point things seemed to be OK. He sounded a little surprised by the miracle and asked what I had done. He lives a few kilometres away from us but when I gave my reply, I swear I could hear him laughing without the aid of the phone. The phone call was as good as over once I said, "I just turned it on." There may have been more to it but it was hard to hear over Mr Button sniggering in the background.
