Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. ~Leonardo DaVinci
Tucked back in a corner of the cleanest and most organized basement I have ever had the pleasure to explore sat this little sewing machine . I carefully dragged it over to the center of the room and lifted the lid. I was thrilled. It was a very old metal singer, in beautiful condition. Barry, the sewing machine man at the Sewing Center has since told me it was a Singer 101. . It does not have a belt; it is gear driven, and it is beautiful. It does a straight stitch. That's it. No zig zag, no decorative stitches, no reverse stitch. A beautiful straight stitch. The Singer lettering on the throat is worn off from years of gently raising it up to use.
I remember when I was about 12, visiting Uncle Earl and Aunt Marge, and the absolute thrill of Marge's sister, Ann, making a dress for me on this machine. It was a blue and white gingham shift with ruffles around the bottom, and it would actually be pretty much in style today. I loved that dress and wore it out.
I have been sewing little Sarah's songbird dress today, but I keep coming to the den and playing with my little Singer, I have hemmed a pair of pants on it and it just hums along. I have a feeling this little machine in it's pretty oak cabinet is going to give me years of pleasure. And I am not a photographer, but thinking about simplicity made me appreciate the view out of my kitchen window. My rose bush is going crazy and I have a thing for rocks (don't ask me why) and this one lives on the window sill. Simple things.