This treadle machine was my DH grandmother Eula from Texas. It was long forgotten and wasn’t cared for in years. The cabinet rotted away and this was all that was left of the machine. It was so rusty it couldn’t even move when I tried to turn the hand wheel.
It was a family project and it is one of my most cherished machines. Her name is Chloe. I soaked her first in a metal pail large enough to hold the machine in WD-40. That started the process, but what really worked was, believe it or not, soaking the machine in coke. YEP, coke. The rust was eaten through and the machine could move. Chloe was alive again!
My Oldest son painted it Mercedes Bends Ice Blue, “because I will always drive a better machine than car!” So, this is my Mercedes!
My Youngest Son helped me pick out a top of the table.
DH helped me cut the opening and countless trips back to MCgiver-Shaw Lumber hardware to find possible parts to make up the tension and other missing parts.
My Oldest Daughter painted the top of the table like a doily. She hid secret messages in the doily along with my monogram.
Baby Daughter helped with naming and stickers.
We recycled a wicker bicycle basket and strapped that to the sides to “hold” things. (look at the top photo)
The best part of today was people coming up to me telling me their treadling stories. I sew on this machine and it takes people back to their Grandmothers, or mothers when they used these machines as part of their life. I like to think that for a minute, out of the blue, people get to revisit their past. They remember fondly and spend some time with people they loved.