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August 29, 2013 / mintcustard

The smell of a Singer sewing machine.


You will notice from the picture accompanying this post that possibly I’m not writing about a cake, a bake, a pudding or a pie.

I am however sharing a really evocative smell that suddenly brought a miriad of memories flooding back to me just yesterday. The younger one had asked me to make her something and I decided that my electric machine would whine like a teenager asked to Hoover if I used it to sew the fabric she had chosen. I grappled around in the dining room and got out my late Mums Singer. It is a hand sewing machine and is certainly older than me and probably was older than my mum too.

As I unlocked the cover, the key still tied to the handle with a piece of ribbon, the aroma of wooden case, lubricating oil and fabric dust filled the air. Suddenly I was five again and sitting under the table as my mum made curtains for my bedroom. I can hear her wedding ring clatter rhythmically on the handle as she turns it.

I no longer have my Mum but I can put my hand where hers used to rest, turning the handle carefull to make things, albeit badly, for my family to hopefully cherish a little.

Funny what smells awaken isn’t it. Do you have a smell that immediately brings a memory flooding back?



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