When visiting my Dad and step-ma Sheila a few months back, somehow the conversation turned to my ambition to one day acquire a pretty vintage sewing machine, to remind me of the one my mother had and sadly lost, on which I remember stitching simple garments (and tying off the thread ends as it didn't do reverse or zig zag or anything at all other than straight ahead). It transpired that Sheila had something similar residing in a dark corner of a cupboard under the stairs - she had lost the key to the locked cover some years ago and was contemplating a trip to the dump.... I pounced. Confident that my terribly clever husband could turn his hand to a spot of lock breaking, and having been reassured by Sheila that she would have no plans to use it even then, we brought it home with us - and now this little beauty (which weighs something in the range of a small car) is in my very proud possession. Pretty cool eh?