Cold day out. Wind blowing. Walked out to the rural mail box. Found a.copy of the only motorcycle magazine I still subscribe to. Crawled back in my man cave. Old stuff. Still like reading motorcycle magazines. After a bit I keep hearing this old sound . Half paying attention, I keep reading about riding, a article about an obsolete motorcycle or two. There is that sound again. An old sound. Mechanical. Smooth. What is the wife doing in our second spare bedroom ? Whirrr....Buzzz. Whirrr. After an hour or so she comes in the man cave and hands me an old jacket I haven't seen in years ! Old stuff. I put it on and it feels wonderful. All re-stitched. The whirring sound was our 1946 White sowing machine. Still runs like a new one. My mother-in-law bought it new the year my wife was born...Ol' Stuff ..J.D.
More anomalies in our common language. A sowing machine over here would be a device for spreading seed. A sewing machine on the otherhand!
