Leftovers: The Sewing Machine

Another story. Another connection.

Every day we pass by the antique Singer sewing machine by the front door. She saw it in a store in Mazatlan years ago. Had to have it. We paid a small amount and had our cabbie take it to a freight company a friend referred me to. Got it shipped to a US point of entry where we found a way to get it back to Dallas. Her master carpenter brother refinished it. It’s been in my home since, radiating some great memories.

And, it reminds me of the similar treadle machine our mother sewed my sister’s prom dress on.

Obscure I know. We all have those moments. And memories.

Sal and I will give this great lady an extra pat on the way in and out today.