My grandmother taught me to treadle in her little adobe house in El Paso, Texas. She had a Singer treadle sewing machine with a long bobbin and mysterious Egyptian decals. With scraps I made a shoe box full of doll clothes for my chubby baby doll. Those were the pre-Barbie doll days, before the wasp waistline, long legs and cleavage.
Years later grandmother owned two treadle sewing machines and we treadled together all summer. She was a true treadle lady and refused family offers to buy her an electric machine, she liked her foot powered treadles.
A few years after she died I bought my first treadle because it brought back warm memories. From 1990 to 1993 my treadle was in storage when I lived in Holland. When I returned to California and my feet finally hit the treadle all the memories of my grandmother came flooding back. The gentle rocking of the…
- Born on August 15
- Joined July 22, 2009