My mother had a real hateful relationship with her old Singer. It was a great machine, but she had no patience. It was rarely used until I started sewing in high school. One day, prior to my starting sewing, she thought it needed to be oiled. Not having any sewing machine oil, she used salad oil. Needless to say, it got all gummed up and she had to have it cleaned up. Again, sewing was not her forte, but her mother was a magician. I guess talents do skip generations.
