Penny and I returned late yesterday afternoon from picking up our Red Eye, circa 1910 at the Goodwill in Nashville. Too tired to unload her from our little Toyota Yaris on return, we left her safely locked up inside. This morning in the cool of the dawn air, I just had to go sneak a look at her again. Lying on her back in the Yaris, I could scan her lines more thoroughly. Opening the drawers of an antique anything is like being on a treasure hunt, and this moment was no different.
Lifting up on one drawer, I felt extra weight I hadn't expected, and gently reached in to find a foil wrapped half box, and a handkerchief held together with a safety pin. I carefully opened the foil wrapped little package and was thrilled to find Ms. Ruby's accessories AND her original owner's manual! The kerchief was carefully undone, revealing an assortment of bobbins, keys and screwdrivers. One screwdriver was finely made steel, knurled, and had an end that unscrews to reveal yet another tinier screwdriver inside. As a tool and die maker, I know the work that it takes to create something of this precision.
Who were you dear lady? I will never know your name or anything about your life. That saddens me, but I can still honor your memory by admiring and caring for the machine you obviously cared so much about yourself. You and your work will not be forgotten, and your beautiful machine, on which I like to think you labored so carefully to create items of fabric magic will hold a place of special remembrance in our home. May our use of your machine (she will always be yours Dear Lady) bind together our generations. Thank you again, whoever you were. Don