sewing Machines

Oil Can: A Cautionary Tale

| ellenanneeddy

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?

| ellenanneeddy

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.

In Praise of Older Machines

| ellenanneeddy

No one likes a new machine better than I do. That whole new machine excitement when you take it out of its box, set it up, and take a square of cotton to run it through its paces, see what marvelous things it does. It’s a magic moment.

And not an everyday one either. Most women keep a machine for around 14-15 years. I do too. At that point, if you sew a lot, you’ve probably worn it a bit. And there’s always the new and cool things the new machines do. But after 15 years with a machine, it’s almost like an extra arm. You know what it will do and how to do it best.

Small disclaimer: I am a Bernina girl. I have no affiliation other than the fact that they have the best stitch in the business. I appreciate other machines. But my workhorses are all Berninas. This is not to say you couldn’t do my techniques on other machines. I’ve demoed everything at one time or another. But I prefer my Berninas for their stitch, their feet, and their toughness.

Several years ago, Don bought me an old Bernina 730. It’s at least 60 years old. I didn’t bond with it over much because it wasn’t quite as fast as some of my machines, but it ran well. Its zigzag was a little ratty. I was in the process of new knees and that occupied most of my time and all of my energy. It got put on my machine rack. I didn’t exactly forget it, but I didn’t pull it out.

Lately, I’ve been working on some much larger work. This is a craziness of some sort, but I have a show coming up in September, and there’s nothing like one big show-stopper quilt to kick that off.

The new 770 Bernina is my love. It’s monstrously fast and excellent for large embroideries. But it hates monofilament thread. Even with the tension adjustments at a slow speed, it stitches about 3 stitches and something breaks. Mostly my temper.

So I’ve gone to using my 230 travel machine which handles monofilament fine. But it’s tiny. It’s a three quarter head machine with a 6 inch throat. I love it. It’s the best classroom machine I’ve ever used. It is, however, impossible to fit a 69″x 50″ inch quilt in that six” throat.

I pulled out the 730. Its slower stitch ate up miles of monofilament nylon without a hiccup. And I’m finally less afraid of the monster sized quilt.

Some personal thoughts:

Machines don’t break down in the closet. Your machine will break down in the middle of a crisis sew. This is just mathematics.

You need more than one machine if you sew seriously. See above.

When they offer you a trade-in on your machine, if you have the money and the space, hold on to your old machine. Becue there may well be things it does better than any new machine on the market.

Finally, if you do garage sales, rummage shops, or Ebay, keep your eyes open for legend machines that may need homes. They show up, much like God-given gifts. If not for yourself, for someone you know who may need them. Good machines deserve good homes.