Passion? Or abberant behavior...

I hate to put any fine chips in the finish, but there are times when sewing machine restoration isn't all that glamorous. (No! tell me it's not true!) There's not always some crazy road-trip miss-adventure into the great unknown or mysterious machine appearing in the driveway overnight. There are quiet weeks, times when the heat and humidity make you think twice about visiting the workshop. Days when the work you really need to get done is so mundane that's it's difficult to stay thrilled.

I made a challenge for myself to begin in one corner and clean and fix all the little things that I've put off.  The result has left me very satisfied on one hand, but it meant some rather quiet and monotonous hours.

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.

I suppose it wouldn't have been so bad if there hadn't been two of them! Two Kenmore footballs: a 117.580 and 581. Each needing a complete cleaning. The crinkle finish is lovely and durable and really neat in the light gray... and very darn annoying to clean. It really did involve a lot of time with a bucket of cleanser and a toothbrush.

The second machine gave me fits when it came to amount of gunk inside the presser foot spring bar area.  The black bar that should move up and down against the presser foot lever is supposed to move! This one didn't. Two nights of an oil soak and in the end I still needed a small tack hammer to get it out of the spot it had glued itself into.

Cleaning does make maintenance and repair seem way more exciting, fun, and interesting.

This 1930 Singer 101 (V4 type 40) was far too slow. I had already cleaned and oiled the machine once and it still wasn't what I had in mind. A thousand stitch-a-minute machine should sew a lot quicker than it was doing. I ended up with the motor service instructions from the owner's manual... pulled the motor out and cleaned and re-greased all the proper points. Amazing that they believed the owner would do this twice a year! Speed increased, sound decreased, but it still wasn't enough. The ceramic controller on this one may be on it's way out since a change in control mechanisms made all the difference. I bypassed the knee control and subbed in a foot pedal, and away it went. Now, it's almost too fast.

Then there was one where just the very act of cleaning tested me.

 

This 40's Singer model 66 wasn't a recent arrival, more important things had leaped ahead of it. The motor turned, the mechs spun, the wiring looked fine. A short test a while back saw that the light glowed and the motor sounded good, and off into the corner it went. Little did I know...

That's an amazing amount of lint.

I've never seen a front end packed like this...

Suddenly this little 66 is a superstar.

Everything else about the machine was pretty normal except for that same old moral question. Antique sewing machines are so different than many other antiques in that people want to use them. The thing with many collectors is having a fully operational machine so that the fun comes from sewing with one and then another.  There's a certain pleasure learning the subtle differences and controls.

For a machine to purr along and manipulate a thin little thread as it was designed... all the pathways must be clean and free of any debris. This often means having to remove very specific areas of wonderful aged patina. That's always a hard call. I left a little more than usual on this 66.

The underside of the presser foot is spotless because it will be in touch with new material. The thin edges are clean, but I left the dull haze on top that's taken 70 years to form. I did the same with areas on on the needle and foot bar.

The pillar behind the motor is spotless to limit motor-killing dust, but I left the age on the inspection panel. I'm happy with this overall look; a delicate balance between function and decades of acquired character.

It does make me wonder though. I know it's just me in some regard. I'm the one that 'has to' make sure all the working bits are clean and perfect. I'm the one that wants the machine to present well, and I'm the one taking all the time. It's either a passion to recover these nearly lost pieces of history... or some sort of O-c-d driven personality quirk.  There is a certain redundancy to it that concerns me. I need to mix things up more, change it up, stay out of a rut...

Some disappointing news on the Adler front:

Yep. That is what's left of the timing belt. Try as I might I have yet been able to find the part number online. The machine is model 453a circa 1955... and I am still digging through websites (mostly in German) to see if I can find a replacement. It's going to be interesting when I find one, because that means having to time a 60 plus year old machine without any written clue as to what I'm doing. Ah; back to the great unknown!


Next post 'may' be a redo of the Model 40 DeLuxe library Table.

I've had to re-number the versions, and add a few clarifications.