Needle-threader case

The last time my teeth were cleaned, the hygenist prescribed fuzzy toothpicks to clean between my teeth and under my bridge. Each package of "soft picks" comes with a "convenient case" for carrying a few in your pocket. So far, I've accumulated three.

Not too long ago, one of the Aldi finds was a tiny sewing machine for fifteen dollars. After verifying that it has a wall wart, I bought one. Full review will appear when I've found some spare time to finish playing with it. So far, it appears to be fragile but functional. Very fragile; the instruction manual emphaizes that this is not a toy and children should not be allowed to play with it.

Pushing a button to start and then pushing it again to stop might concievably be adequate for a large industrial machine that never sews seams shorter than ten feet, but it's an absolute non-starter for garment stitching. But the machine also comes with a "foot control" in which pushing the button will start the machine and ceasing to push the button will stop it.

The hand wheel is tiny and hard to turn.

The machine also came with a zipper bag containing four bobbins of thread, three needles, and a needle threader. The needles are in cardboard holsters, but the needle threader's delicate wire was in great danger

I was thinking about finding a bit of card stock to duplicate the folder another threader is in when I remembered the spare toothpick cases. Easier than folding card, easier to open and close, and the threader is in full view. I'm forever finding the folder in the futon and wondering "what is this?".

I intend to replace the pill-pouch of pins in my Altoid-box mending kit with the other spare toothpick case.

Saturday, 19 March 2022

Today I found time to use the Easy Home Mini Sewing Machine to sew three lines of gathering stitches where I want to ease the neck of my new bra onto the binding. The top tension is too loose, which perfectly suits gathering threads -- I usually use a double-wound bobbin to achieve that effect. The top tension can be tightened, according to the manual. I didn't open it today, except to verify that it tells what sort of batteries to use in it before putting the batteries that came with it into the battery stash. All the AA boxes seem to be already full, but I didn't spend much time checking, just laid the shrink-wrapped package of six on top of the pile.

When I started sewing, DH, in the next room engrossed in trying to make my new computer work, exclaimed "That's a noisy little thing!"

The noise is distracting. It's not only loud, it sounds *cheap*, as though the machine were about to fall apart.

When I turn the handwheel, it feels as though the machine were in desperate need of oil. I must look up whether it's possible to oil the machine.

I think I could get used to the glitchy feel of the machine being either full on or stopped.

Turned the light off first thing, since I was sitting under a chandelier, but I think it shares the fault of all built-in sewing machine lights: the light shines straight down, leaving no shadows to reveal details.

Evening:

Big plus: the machine *has* a manual. Perhaps that is because it is a recurring "find"; most gadgets go obsolete in less time than it takes to write a halfway decent manual.

I just now read or skimmed over all forty-two pages, and there isn't a word about oil. It does mention cleaning the needle plate and bobbin compartment with a fine brush. Says don't use nylon bristles. I rather suspect that that rules out the Necchi cleaning brush, but it's too big to fit into the mini machine. I do have some old horsehair stencil brushes that I have been using for fine cleaning for decades. (I wonder whether I've photographed them for entry on whisk brooms in the Tools chapter of _Rough Sewing_? I can't do any serious maintenance on the Web site until my new computer begins to function, so there is no point in looking.)