Oil Can: A Cautionary Tale

Do you remember in the Wizard of Oz when they fixed the tin man with an oilcan?

Let’s just start this out by saying I am not a mechanic. By training or inclination. I have 60 years of working with sewing machines by way of experience. I am in no way recommending this proceedure. I’m telling you it worked for me.

You know I’ve been wrestling with my machines. It all came to a head last week when the working 930 Bernina froze solid, mid stitch. This is the fourth machine that has done that.

Don looked at me and said, “Have you oiled it?” Of course I oiled it. All the places in the book.

Fixing is Don’s job. Oiling is mine. Besides, I was restless and distraught and desperate. I got out the new shop light and oiled everything that moved metal against metal. There were a lot of places I would have never found without the light. It felt fruitless. Don said, “Let it sit.” That felt awful, but there wasn’t anything else to do.

The next day, the wheel budged just a bit. I pushed at it. It rotated a bit in a jerky way. Don said, “Let it sit.” I oiled it again like watering the garden.

The next day it didn’t move at all. Or the day after that, Or the day after that. I kept oiling.

Today was the day I pushed the wheel and it moved. All the way around. I got out the light and saw a hunk of thread I’d missed. I pulled it out bit by bit with a hemostate. I oiled again He put it back together and it ran. I kissed both him and the machine.

It sounds simple, but it’s not. The manual on your machine suggests several oiling parts. The idea is that your mechanic will get the other spots during a tune up. That assumes your machine is under ten years old. And being serviced regularly. And that your mechanic knows the older machines. As machines age, they get dry. In places that are hard to reach and not documented.

So the oil can be the cure. Except when it’s not.

Know your machine

What is your machine made of? Outsides don’t count. Insides do. Oil will abrade plastic, and possibly nylon. So you NEVER oil something that’s plastic on metal or plastic on plastic. Only oil metal on metal. Tap on it with your screwdriver if you aren’t sure. You’ll hear the difference.

Get a really good shop light.

I was shocked with what I could see with a magnifying shop light. I have several, but this is clearly the best of them. I found places on my machine I’d never heard about, and I do have a mechanics manual.

You also don’t want to open anything that will void the waranty. My machines are 20-40 years old, so that doesn’t matter. Newer machines are also much more complex. You may want to talk to your dealer.

If you’re cleared, take off the panels you can. We’re looking for the secret spots. They hide in the dark.

This is an answer for a machine that is stuck. If your machine is really truly broken instead of stuck, it will tell you. Listen. Pops, bangs, screams, grinds, smoke, the smell of burned plastic, or sounds like it’s chewing, are all indications that something broke. Stop immediately. This will not self heal. Oil it, but don’t expect that to fix the problem.

When and where do you oil?

If your machine is working well enough to move the wheel by hand, you can see all the places where it moves. Oil moving parts that are metal on metal. You will find more places if you can turn the wheel to see where they are.

If it’s not moving at all, oil what you can see. Check that what you’re oiling is metal on metal.

Don’t be upset if you don’t get an immediate response. Oil seeps in. If it won’t move at once, give it some time to penetrate.

What kind of oil? Buy your oil at the dealership. Oil is not all the same. Some kinds actually have shellac in them. If like me, you have many machines, you can buy in bulk. Bernina Jeff. of High Fashion Sewing, in Junction, CO, was kind enough to show us the oil he uses: Velocite # 10 spindle oil. I trust Bernina Jeff. His videos are accessible. He is knowledgeable and kindly. I purchased a number of small bottles and a pint of oil.

Can you oil too much? Of course you can. If you’ve got a puddle, there you are. Wipe it up and call it done. I like to use flannel to clean up oil.

Do check out Bernina Jeff. He has great machining toys for sale, knows his stuff and is a good and gentle teacher.

I do hope you never need this. But I intend to oil every machine I’ve got down to the nubs.

Do You Need an Industrial Sewing Machine?

This has been a burning question for me over the last 6 months. I live and die by my sewing machines. It’s what I do. I sew every day around 4-5 hours a day.

Over that time, I;ve locked up 2 220s, 2 930s and a 770, all Berninas known to be tough and durable. I’ve felt like a general who’s horse has died, getting on another horse and inadvertently shooting the new one. It’s been ghastly.

What it’s about is the intense embroideries. They feel like the heart of my work. They’re intense, detailed, textured, and, pardon my vanity, show stopping.

I can’t seem to make them without breaking machines.

I went through this a long time ago. I burned the brushes off my 930 and bought an industrial 20U Singer. It was not a perfect answer. It was way too fast. It chomped through thread. It was incredibly noisy. And impossible to control.

Eventually, I stopped making those larger embroideries.

Lately I’ve needed to work those large embroideries. And we rescued the 20 U from where I left it at Porter.

It was the right decision. Don put a servo motor on it to slow it down. It did a very nice job with my #40 polyester threads.

What is a servo motor?

I’m not sure of the mechanics of the thing. Functionaly it’s an industrial motor with a rhiostat. You can adjust the speed to your taste. It’s infinately more quiet, and takes up a lot less energy.

I wouldn’t say it was the right thing for everyone.

What can an industrial machine offer you?

It is

  • An incredibly tough machine
  • An incredibly fast machine
  • An extra wide zigzag stitch

Those are very different skillls from a home machine.

There is a down side.

  • They are huge. They take up a large footprint in studio space.
  • They are harder to manuver. I’m still finding my way about managing stitch angle with it.
  • Unless you slow them down, they’re too fast for many threads and applications. The servo motor is the best way to control that.
  • You can’t pick it up and take it to a mechanic. You’ll need to fix it yourself or find a mechanic who does house calls.
  • They’re kind of crude. They’re rough machines mechanically. Simple to work with but they’re not sophisticated.

Don made this work for me by installing a servo motor. That motor is a miracle. So is Don. I’m grateful for both.

Am I sorry to be working with an older machine? No. They don’t change that much. As far as the changes in machines over the last 50 years, the most important one was being able to set needle up, needle down. With the servo motor, it’s in excellent fighting shape. These machines are indestructable.

Am I thrilled? Yes. Downside and all, I can tackle those big pieces without making a collection of broken sewing machines. Will I use if for everything? Probably not. Again, hard to control.

Want to come play with my new machine? Give me a call and come over. It’s like running a tyranasarus that sews.

Saint Don of the Dead Sewing Machine

This is a cautionary tale. I’m hoping someone can learn from my mistakes.

Maybe you can sew too much.

This has been a bad year for sewing machines. I’m trying to figure out whether I’m really sewing that much more or whether it’s attrition, or just bad luck. I’ve broken 3 220s, been told my 770 is worn out at 31 million stitches (in four years) and had two 930s break down.

My mechanic has two of my machines in shop. I was down to working with a 807 minimatic. I love my mechanic. She’s meticulous. On average, she takes 2 months to fix a machine. It’s not an instant fix.

For this discussion, I’m leaving brand names off the machines. You’ll probably know what the numbers mean. They are all machines known for their tough durability. That doesn’t seem to be enough right now.

Thank you, God, for Don.

I knew Don had worked on vacuum cleaners in the deep dark past. I didn’t understand what that meant. Don is a small motor specialist. Sewing machines are about small motors. He had fuddled with several older machines and got them working. I had no idea how skilled he was.

I had two 930s. One was my machine from when I started. I picked up the second because the first was soooooooo good.

I had put them up on the rack and not used them for a while. But as machines kept going down it got more desperate. We pulled them down, decided which was less beat up. It sewed like a top for around a month and then locked. We brought out the second machine, made some adjustments. I got two months out of that. Then it jammed.

I was so upset I couldn’t even cry.

In came St Don. He watched a bunch of videos, took both machines apart. We saw what was fixable, and was not. Then we had the kind of transplant surgery where really only one patient survived. He dusted it off, I oiled everywhere and now I have Frank En 930. But it’s working.

What did I learn?
What would I say to anyone doing the kind of embroidery I’m doing?

  • Skip the bells and whistles. You need something tough. I do think most of the machines today are much more fragile.
  • If you have a machine that’s working for your craft, don’t ever turn it in for another machine. It’s not necessarily able to do the same things for you.
  • If you have an older machine that’s working for you, find an extra one for a parts machine. It doesn’t need even to run. But it means you have the parts to fix things, even down to the right screws.
  • You’ll probably need someone like Don. You can’t have him but you can find a reasonable facsimile. If you do, feed him plates of brownies and videos. Other treats may be applicable. You need someone able and willing to hunt the snark (whatever is wrong with your machine), and brave enough to take the back off the machine. I’m fixing his third batch of cookies today. We can’t let him run out.

My next sewing machine

This has changed how I feel about my machines. Instead of looking for the great new features (which are a wonder) I’m looking for something with alligator blood. Pulling out my 40 year old Berninas was a really good patch on this.

So I pulled out another old machine I hadn;t even moved with me when I moved to Ga;lesburg. Luckily, the man renting my house had left it in a safe place and not disposed of it. A 20 u is the machine I bought when I blew the brushes off my 930 for the first time. It’s the machine you’d find at a drycleaners. Very fast. Uncontrolable except for straight stitch clothes construction. In the end, I stopped doing the elaborate embroideries.

But those are at the heart of what I’m currently doing. I can’t give them up. They are at the heart of my art right now. They are the flame I’m drawn to.

Things change. My threads and stabilizers have changed since then. And what is available for a fix has chnged too.

I’m putting a servo motor on my 20u industrial to see if we can tame that machine to a reasonable speed for embroidery. And I’m looking for another 930. Other than for demo, I’m done with plastic toys.

Don, neither plastic or a toy, is a total keeper. So he is now St Don, for healing the halt, the lame, and the blind stitch.

Rethinking retooling

This last year has been a disaster for my sewing machines. Most of my work depends on intense embroidery. Lately I’ve depended more and more on that stitchery for my images. I love it. But it does wear and tear on the machines. I had 6 major machine breakdowns. last year. I broke down 3 220s, my 770, my 630 and a 930. Some have fixed. Some have not.

I’m a Bernina girl from way back and have been a Bernina Ambassador for most of my career. I work with Berninas because they are tough and they stitch accurately. That doesn’t mean they don’t break down, Particularly if you’re sewing at speed demon speed for hours on end. I was told this is my fault.

I suppose it is. It’s what I do. I can either back away from this kind of stitching or find another way.

Zigzag embroidery allows for intense detail and color, I can’t step away from it. I also can’t keep breaking machines. So something has to change.

Don is my miracle in this. He’s a wizard with older small motors. He’s not specialized in sewing machines, but very mechanically savvy. He’s collecting manuals and parts machines. As always, he’s my hero.

I really can’t function though without a working machine and I prefer 2 backups. I’m not exa sane without a sewing machine.

Years ago I bought a 20 U Singer for intense embroidery. That’s not what these machines are known for. In a way, they’re the cockroach of the sewing machine world. Not in the sense that they hide under the cupboards, but because they are pretty much unkillable. You find them most often in dry cleaner shops for repairs.

It was a mixed success. This thing eats babies and cats, breaks thread constantly, and is fast—too fast—even with different slower pulleys. And it was the weight of a tiny elephant. When I left Porter, I left it in my studio, where it has sat.

Ken, the person renting my house, offered to bring it to me. That in itself is a huge glft But I’ve had my reservations about making this machine work. I first felt I was stepping backward, Is it an answer to the same problem? Is this machine tough enough?

Well, we know it’s tough. Can we make it work with embroidery thread? There’s the question. It’s also paid for.

It had its problems before. But things have changed. I now use stronger threads. I no longer work in a hoop. And we found that a servo motor would step down the speed. So it’s coming to the studio sometime this month, and we try it out. I’ve gone from feeling like I’m stepping back to seeing new possibilities.

You can’t step in the same river twice. You are different and the water is different.

I’m digging out the studio this week to make room, which is why I don’t have new work to show you. I’ll let you know what happens next.

Wish me luck. I think it’s time for another spoonbill.