In a sleep deprived household like ours,there are few things that will get us out of our beds before we have to.  Stirling Car Boot Sale is one of them.  Every week, people meet at the old cattle market at an ungodly hour...some have things to sell, others have things to buy.  Anywhere you can get a plate of hot chips (french fries) before 8 in the morning is a hit with the Harrison-Goldin's. 

Wandering around the many stalls, we could not help but be reminded of the saying "one person's rubbish is another person's treasure". Discarded toys, dishes, furniture, books, clothes and other knick-knacks, offered for a pittance, pulled us in for closer examination time and again.  A few things found their way back to the house, including an orange french press, an enormous truck for small boy, a beautiful serving bowl:

When I saw it, I had to have her.  She is just the most gorgeous thing I have ever had the pleasure of sewing on.  Strong and methodical, her stitching is better suited to heavy upholstery than quilting cotton. She was made just a few miles down the road in Clydebank (there is even a stop on the trainline in Glasgow called Singer).

I was ribbed mercilessly by a certain German for owning 3 sewing machines. Yes.  My name is Kat and I am addicted to old sewing machines.  Everytime I see one, I have to look at it at the very least. Just the heft of these antiques tells you about their story...the details, the beauty, the simple functionality.  This one has lasted 90 years and is still going strong--I hardly imagine my Silver still zigging and zagging in 2099.   Who else made clothes for their children with this sturdy apparatus?  Can you imagine the woman who first brought this home?  It was one of the first models of "portable" sewing machines available in the world.  This was some one's treasure. 

And now, I have the immense honour of it being my treasure.