My Aunt Flora’s sewing machine. It’s been in my closet for more than six years now, since my cousin Betsy moved her mom into a nursing home. It’s from 1968 and has needed to be fixed for far longer than I’ve had it. Did I mention that I don’t really know how to use a sewing machine. I’ve decided that it’s time to let this one go.
🙂 I have almost the same one. They do not make them like this anymore (kind of like the bale-top canning jars my mom covets). It purrs as it runs (the machine, not the jars), and is beautiful. I hope it finds its way to a loving home, somehow.