It seems I just can't say no to a waif and stray bit of machinery. No saving and buying a brand spanking new piece of equipment, oh no, not me. I've got to take in the quirky temperamental old bucket of bolts. I've got to coddle it and work out its kinks and curse and moan and wonder why I do this every time.
And then I look at something like this counterweight and think it is all worth it.
With a bit of tinkering and a smidge of lateral thinking I sort out the problems.
I don't normally name my machines (although another waif and stray, the walking foot binder is affectionally known as the Beast) but this one has 'Collin' scratched into its side so Collin it is.
Collin the Conewinder.