Seriously: Knock it off

I didn't know why I was letting this machine get to me!

To look at me, you'd think nothing would faze me. I stand nearly 6' tall, and my RPF** is intimidating according to my last boss. (He never used the term RBF, but I can.) I ooze confidence!

But that deep-throat Viking of mine, once again, had me quaking in my proverbial boots for the last several (8!!) months. As I was finishing the quilting on my bowtie coffee/work/wine/repeat quilt (back in November), the motor started in with a discouraging, high-pitched squeal.

Dated 1 Nov 2017. Got the Press 'N' Seal template on the inner borders, ready to finally finish this and get it on the bed.

She's too young to be having these types of problems! Nothing I did--clean, oil, change bobbins, change speeds, put away extra bobbins that might be producing sympathetic vibrations/harmonics (I hold them on one of the spool posts)--changed the fact that my machine was being a bitch. So as soon as I finished the last stitch, I turned her off and set about ignoring her problem as hard as I could. As one does.

Fast forward to June 30, 2018. I've pin basted the block exchange I won't be keeping, and it's time to give myself a stern talking-to: "Seriously: Knock it off! There's nothing to fear from this machine. If it squeals, it squeals. At least the tension was okay!"

And I'll be damned if she didn't stitch quietly and perfectly that whole afternoon!

So, Gentle Reader, you can imagine how unconcerned was I when shortly into the second day's quilting, I got bobbin snap. The bobbin thread just snapped for no particular reason. Not unheard of, not a problem. Fiddle the wheel back and forth a bit to get the top thread unstuck and pulled out, then take out the bobbin.

Then take out the bobbin.

Then take out the bobbin.

Then... ta-a-a-a-ake out the... #%&$@& thing won't come out!

Stubbornness Patience and persistence finally won out and I got the bobbin case out of there. But there were spin-y things going on in her underneath that were never spin-y before. Had the hook always been so free, so able to turn 360 degrees with no resistance?

No.

No, it had not.

Turns out, my machine has Part Creep. Never heard of that? To quote my dad, it's an old expression I just made up. Parts that are firmly screwed/bolted down still manage to shift and mess things up big time. I have a Very Good Reason to approach her with trepidation!

I didn't remove her entirely from her table, as I've done in the past to correct her timing*, but propped her up roughly 30 degrees so I could access the bobbin hook area without standing on my head. And lo! There was a metal finger that should have been holding the hook stationary, but instead was just pointing to the general area where it remembered having seen the hook last. That was as helpful as it sounds; as it happens: not at all.

Yeah, I think I left it right around there. Let me know if you need me to hold anything, m'kay?

This part, firmly cranked down with a screw, had crept away from the hook just enough to release it altogether. I had to realign everything (putting a bobbin in and getting things lined up that way helped enormously), loosen the screw,

get the finger positioned far enough into the hook to hold it, but not so far that it interfered with the needle movement,

then tighten the screw back down.

There's an understandable urge to over-tighten at this point, in an attempt to fight Part-Creep, but that'll just strip the screw or make it impossible to remove when this happens again. And it will happen again.

So, yeah, she's got her issues, but now I know it's not ME. I've already been trained to constantly tighten her already-tight thumb screw that is supposed to hold the needle in. That's what led to her second retiming episode*. Little by little, however, I'm getting so darned familiar with the workings of this machine, I'm feeling confident that I can get her back up on her "feet" no matter what befalls her!

Except for that damn motor squeal (which I'm still fervently hoping will never raise its ugly head again).



*Within 3 days of bringing her home with me, through no fault of my own (which is what this entire post is about, basically), her timing was shot. I brought her back to the vendor (under a quilting deadline, of course--isn't that always the way?) who then proceeded to correct her timing while being coached through the entire thing on the phone while I watched. That experience was priceless, and proved to me that I could do the very same thing in the comfort of my own home. And I have. And will no doubt have to do many more times.

** Resting Pitch Face, a term thought up by a chorus member to describe someone who's on the risers singing, but not performing. I LOVE IT!!!