It all began with the trip to Vancouver. I had agreed to loan my faithful Bernina 1020 sewing machine, the venerable, non-computerized, veteran, to my son and his wife while I was gone. Things would never be the same. Perhaps it was depression. Perhaps the 1020 did not like the ride in the car, although during its trip it was ensconced in the luxury of a Tutto rolling carrying case. I interrogated the borrowers. We could document no traumatic insults, either physical or verbal. Whatever the reason, when the 1020 came back home it had developed an anomaly: if the feed dogs were lowered, they would not go up unless you pulled them back up with your finger. Time for the sewing machine hospital. Unfortunately for an inner-city dweller, sewing machine dealers have been moving further into the suburbs for years now. Looking in the phone book, I discovered that what used to be a twenty- minute drive for service had expanded to forty-five. Two Saturday afternoons shot, plus a week without my machine. Yippee. Maybe I could just leave the feed dogs permanently up. Now I was depressed. What to do?

For some time now, I have been contemplating a newer machine. Since the early 1990s I had been admiring the “new, computerized” high-end machines Bernina was making, the 1230 and the ultimate, trackball-embellished 1630. Although there have been many new models from Bernina since then, I’ve always had a hankering for one of those machines. Since I write about sewing and quilting all the time, it really was time to upgrade to something from the last decade. But remember that I am cheap. I buy almost everything used, except for toothbrushes.

That night I flirted with eBay. We’ve bought and sold any number of things on eBay, but never anything as substantial and pricey and fraught with risk as an electronic sewing machine. Sending a large payment to a complete stranger for an unseen object made us just a little bit anxious. But I couldn’t resist, and kept nosing around the auctions from the kitchen laptop. There were several machines up for auction, one of the auctions closing in just a few hours. We did a few minutes of quick research—if I think about these things for too long, I will not act upon them—and made a bid. Less than an hour later, I had Bernina 1630 with my name on it. Or so I thought . . . .

The next morning, things turned surreal. Somehow, the item was gone from eBay. There was no trace of it. We typed in the auction number that was on our bidding documents, and eBay said it was invalid. A search for the seller turned up nothing. Had we hallucinated the whole thing? We had heard nothing from the seller, and the machine did not show up on our “My eBay” page. We had no confirming e-mail from eBay, even though we knew we had seen our eBay name listed as the winner when the auction ended. What was going on? We wrote to the eBay helpdesk, and wondered if we would hear directly from the seller. Later in the day, we did. An email from the dealer advised me of my payment options, convincing me, for better or worse, I was indeed embarked upon a journey, the journey of a new sewing machine.

More questions arose. Why had the item vanished from eBay? Since the item was coming from Canada, would I have to pay enormous duty in addition to the $90 shipping charge the dealer listed? Would my 1020 adjust to a new friend?

Later in the day, answers emerged. eBay notified us that “text or image infringement issues” had precipitated removal of the item. This was a bit cryptic, but whatever it was, it put the seller in eBay’s bad graces, and we were advised that we would not be required to consummate the sale. Silly eBay! I wanted that machine! We researched the seller, a firm in British Columbia which had been in existence for a number of years in multiple locations, and who seemed reputable. He emailed us again that duty was included in the $90 and that my machine could be packed and shipped UPS in a twinkling once payment arrived. No comment from the 1020, but we did spend some quality time making pillows for the great room. We paid by Paypal a few days later, after transferring the $900 price from our checking account, and the machine was shipped by UPS ground on the same day.

Thanks to UPS tracking, we followed its progress first to Seattle, and then to Illinois and Nashville to its Doraville, Georgia, check-in at 12:27 am. My new baby was almost home.

By the time I got in the door from work, the 1630 was perched on the dining room table plugged in. Rob had checked it over and connected the machine because he was concerned that it might have been damaged due to a crushed box corner on the instructional video. However, the computer screen was lighted and the basic body parts intact. The only signs of its previous owner were a few scratches on the right hand side and her name in the manual. The item arrived as advertised, and we could breathe easier about what for us was a major investment in sewing hardware.

Although there were tons of instructions, I did manage to figure out on my own how to sew a straight stitch and change its length. However, it took a minute to locate the reverse button (by the needle instead of on the right side) and having a track ball in a sewing appliance was a little odd.

First test drive completed, we left it on the table to admire for the weekend.

Then I decided to watch the videotape, which provided project instructions. The video offered hope that as the proud owner of a Bernina 1630, I could waltz about the house and create fabulous table linens for my gourmet dinner parties. (Maybe the machine cooks as well as sews!) It was interesting to see a pre-designer- cabinet sewing room depicted, although that did give me some notion of how outdated my personal updating is.

By the end of the day on Sunday, we moved the 1630 upstairs and onto the sewing table. I gently placed the 1020 on the far end, hoping to ease the transition for all of us. By mid-week, I had figured out how to baste -- the coolest feature ever—and do a reasonable zig-zag. Last weekend, I took on a real project and finished a quilted Mardi Gras jacket that had been languishing for some time. What complicated the task is that I decided to serge most of the jacket construction. (Did I forget to mention that I’ve had the serger for 15 months and haven’t ever used it?) But the 1630 and I performed well together, and we’re beginning to get in a groove. The jacket got done quickly, and I am beginning to get confident. I no longer worry that I’ll mess something up. I have figured out the difference between the “clear” and the “OK” buttons, and I’m starting to get the hang of some of the funny symbols on the readout. I wish I could take one of the “boot camp” classes offered around the country, but most of the offerings have moved on from my wonderful little machine. I still have not used the knee-operated needle-down feature.

Every day, I do a little more fooling around with the 1630, with my manual in one hand, fabric in the other. It reminds me of bathing my first son -- baby book in one hand, child in the other! Actually, these are not dissimilar events. Every day, I discover something new. The machine is, of course, smarter than I am. It has “coded” feet that know which stitch widths go with them, and it will not let me do dumb things. I keep expecting one of my non-sewing acquaintances to hear me talking about how smart my Bernina is, and comment, “What an unusual name your grandchild has!” It will be easier to nod, and forget the explanation. Suffice it to say that I’m proud of my new baby.

But the strangest part of all takes me back to the beginning of the story, when I discovered that the 1020’s feed dogs were malfunctioning. When I was playing around with the new Bernina, I dropped the feed dogs of the 1630, and they would not automatically come up---JUST LIKE THE 1020- but this time, I turned the hand wheel toward me and Voila! Feed dogs up. Stunned, I switched to the 1020 and tried the same trick—it worked the same way. In ten years of use, I had never noticed this fact about the sewing machine I used every day.

So now I have two completely wonderful machines that both work just fine. And although the 1020 may not have all the features of the 1630, she’s smart too. She knew when I needed a new machine and told me in terms that would make me take action. Now THAT’S amazing!

As for buying a high-priced item from eBay, I felt the experience was a success. Despite the great distance, and the glitch with the auction listing, we were reassured by the responsiveness of the seller, his evident organization and desire to please the customer, and his promptness. While this sensitive piece of equipment might have been a bit better packed, it did arrive in one piece and fully operational. The price was fair, if not rock bottom. I’m a happy camper, ready to waltz about the house with my embroidered table linens.