The Viking Flu

I was humming along on my machine, furiously free-quilting when I ran out of bobbin thread. I wound a new bobbin, dropped it in the well and tried to raise it. Done it lots of times. No dice. I tried new bobbins, checked the needle, rethreaded the machine, lit a candle to the Patron Saint of Swedish appliances, mustered a magical incantation: bibbity-bobbin-y-boo, all in vain.

I even called the Husqvarna Help Desk in the form of my M-i-L , Carol, who generously gifted me the Viking. She is really more of a Bernina expert, as her new one has a thumb drive with more computing power than the space shuttle. But all to no avail. I shut the machine off and took a nap thinking fresh eyes and some REM sleep may be able to solve the problem. So much for that idea, I had a dream that, oh never mind, don't want to give the prosecution more ammo for the sanity hearing.

I reluctantly took my ailing appliance to the sewing machine ER, plopped it on the service desk and watched the nice lady write up my ticket and immediately raise the bobbin thread. I felt REALLY stupid, but then it's not like I unwittingly left my car running for four hours, well, not today at least.

I left it for service anyway. Seeing as we were there, a checkup seemed like a good idea. (M-i-L should stop reading here.) Though I don't use it terribly often, my machine does get a lot of abuse. As you can imagine, not all of my substrates are fabric and I have been known to use the carrying case as a cradle for a hot glue gun, as is evidenced by the melted hole in the top. (Ok, Carol, you can look now.)

So my machine is in the shop till Wednesday. I guess I'll have to resort to working in paper in the meantime and find another place to prop my hot tools.