Last summer, my sewing machine was haunted.
Okay, it wasn’t really haunted. We had a faulty extension cord which caused it to run at full speed by itself, then make a popping sound and smoke.
My husband fixed the part that caused the smoke and everything seemed to work okay. That is, until I tried to sew something. The stitching and the stitch selector were all messed up. DH tried to look at it again, but Viking sewing machines are rather complicated and difficult to fix as I am coming to realize.
So I brought it to a local place before Thanksgiving. Two weeks later, they called and said they were no longer doing sewing machine repair because they weren’t happy with the repair person they had contracted with. They recommended I try another local place. I called them. They only do non-computerized machines – Yay! – but not Vikings. Sigh.
My next options were both an hour away, but one was near my daughter’s physical therapy appointments, so I wouldn’t be making a special trip. That’s not so bad. I dropped the machine off along with my mother’s which also needed repair. They said it would be two weeks to get them repairs, maybe a little longer because of the holidays. They called a week later with estimates. Ouch. I decided to only fix mine and we could fix my mom’s ourselves. (It was a repair my husband had done successfully before.) I picked up her machine on our next trip down and then I waited for them to call and say my machine was done. Two weeks after Christmas, they still hadn’t called, so I called them, hoping I could again combine trips with my daughter’s appointment. This time they informed me that their repairman doesn’t do Vikings and has someone come in to fix them, but they don’t call him until there are several for him to fix. It could be two months, or more. It would have been nice to know that any of the four times I talked to someone at the store or the repair guy himself.
Needless to say, I picked up my broken machine and searched for another repair place. My sister has an in with a repair guy, so I sent the machine off with her and hoped for better luck.
It was not to be found. He found more things wrong and recommended that the money be put into a new machine rather than repairing a forty year old one. And Mom’s machine had something else broken for which there were no longer parts available.
So while mourning the loss of my sewing machine, a wedding gift from my parents, and shopping for a new one.
And I’m trying not to be frustrated by the cute ideas I’m finding on Pinterest until I find one.