My vintage Singer

About 20 years ago, I was given this sewing machine by a friend - it had belonged to her mother, and she wanted it to go to someone who would use it.  On and off, I have used it, but I feel I should do more sewing with it as it's such a lovely machine.



The serial number dates the machine casting to 1898, but the patterns in the enamel don't fit with other machines of that age - they look much more like 1930s graphics.  So it's exact age is a mystery, but it's probably at least 90 years old.  As it's made of a lump of cast iron it's very heavy, but as long as you don't have far to carry it this is an advantage, as the machine doesn't wobble or rattle.  When in action the noise from it is a gentle PRRRRRR, with a rhythmic clicking as the needle moves up and down.



At the right hand end are the fly-wheel and hand crank - the fly-wheel does two jobs, because it helps to keep the machine running smoothly as you crank it, but it also winds the bobbins if the bobbin-winder is pushed forward so that it's rubber wheel runs on the rim of the fly-wheel.  So clever - and, you can disengage the needle mechanism while you wind your bobbin, just as on modern machines.



This machine has a 'vibrating' bobbin case; instead of spinning on a fixed horizontal spindle like in a modern machine, this bobbin, in it's shuttle-shaped case, moves backwards and forwards to take the bobbin thread through the loop of the top thread.  According to Wikipedia, this vibrating system was replaced with the modern rotary bobbins because they allow the machine to run faster, with less vibration - although I must say that my very solid Singer machine vibrates a whole lot less than my modern, plastic, electric motor machine!



So, as I would really like to complete a whole project on this machine, I am having a think about what might be possible.  It doesn't do zig-zag (and possibly not backwards either), but stitch length and tension are adjustable.  Straight seams are obviously easier than curved, as you only have one hand to steer the fabric with (yes, the other is your motor).  Suggestions are welcome!



Vicky xx

Linen and Liberty

Not a new combination, I expect, but one I think really works.  Liberty lawn is probably my favourite sort of fabric!



These are tiny notebooks with crispy laid paper hand stitched into a linen wrap-around cover, lined with Liberty lawn.  A leather tie winds around to keep the notebook closed.



Great for using up scraps of linen, whilst not eating up too much of your precious Liberty stash! Making one of these miniature books is a satisfying little project for an afternoon.



I used a variety of Essex linens and Liberty prints - can't decide on a favourite though! Will I be able to give these away, or will I have to keep them all??! One in each bag I think!

Some vintage hexies

Here's my grandmother's quilt:





Well, really I think it's a coverlet, as it has no wadding, just the top layer and backing. It was made by my grandmother in the 1950s, entirely from hand-stitched English paper pieced hexagons. The fabrics are a mixture of furnishing fabrics and dress fabrics, with a yellow chintz back. Between the hexagon-flowers, there are pale yellow and blue background hexagons.



Each of the 132 flowers in the patchwork is made of seven hexagons, joined to its neighbours and the other rows with two of the background (yellow or blue) hexagons. So, not counting all the bits at the edges, that's at least 132 x 9 = 1,1188 hexagons. All cut from paper and fabric by hand. WOW!!



This coverlet is big enough for a double bed. It's very well preserved, with only a few frayed patches, so I'm not sure it was ever used very much.




Hexagons are my favourite shape of all time! They remind my of bees, and how industrious they are.
I have a hexagon quilt in progress, and another hexagon project in mind - but I'm afraid I don't have the patience to hand-stitch mine together! My quilt hexagons are made from half-hexagons joined into strips and then the strips stitched together. One day I might persuade myself to make a small piece of paper-pieced hexagon patchwork with Liberty scraps, but likely not this year!

The Graham quilt

Chances are, you won't have heard of the Graham quilt.  It now belongs to Killhope Lead Mining Museum (have I mentioned them before?!), but its story starts about 150 years ago in nearby Allendale.  And in between Allendale and Killhope, which are about a mile apart up at the tippety-top of the North Pennines, there's a journey to New York state and back.

Made by Hannah Peart in the early 19th century, the quilt is a traditional design known as a strippy quilt - literally meaning it's made of strips of fabric. This method of quilt-making is very much associated with this area, the North Country (really County Durham and Northumberland). 















The quilt top is made of three or four different prints, in seven strips running the entire length of the quilt.  Some of the fabrics are pretty faded now, which isn't surprising given the age of this quilt, and it's hard to know what the original colours would have looked like - I suspect there may have been quite a lot more red in the stripes that are now orange.

The back is a fairly coarse, creamy colour cotton.  All of the piecing and quilting has been done by hand on this double size  quilt, and the edges are finished by folding them over to the back and stitching down.

In 1854, Hannah emigrated from her home in the North Pennines to join her sweetheart Joseph Graham in New York state, taking the quilt with her.  He had travelled there a few years earlier to seek a better life in farming than he could make in mining in Weardale.  Hannah and Joseph married and spent the rest of their lives in America, writing home regularly to their family still in the North Pennines.  Joseph died in 1905, and Hannah in 1911.

Here's a picture of the quilt back, showing some of the quilting, which includes patterns in parallel lines, scallops and four-petalled flowers (you can see one petal in the picture above, enclosed in a diamond shape).  There are a few holes in the quilt back, but they don't look like moth holes.  In the photo below you can see quilting in scallops following the printed pattern on the fabric.

Amazingly, although Hannah didn't return to the UK, her quilt did.  In the 1980s, her great-grand-daughter brought the quilt, and letters sent to Hannah in America, back to the UK and presented them to the museum.  So this quilt, over 150 years old, is now back where it started and soon it will be on display to the public alongside the letters that Hannah and her family sent back and forth to each other across the sea. It's an amazing story!