What do you do once you've converted your vintage sewing machine into a leather eating monster using the Bigfoot sewing machine motor control?

You feed it leather, of course.

The first test of the Bigfoot control was this leather and nylon carrying case that I made for my wife:

She sings in a choir and takes her Koenig and Meyer 100/1 music stand with her to practice.

I spent a quiet Sunday afternoon today while she was at choir practice making something for myself with the help of my Adler and Bigfoot.

I am an American, but I've lived in Germany now for over thirty years.  Some twenty years ago, my parents came over and spent six months in a rented house in a close by village.  They were here to see our kids, of course, but also to travel around and see Europe.

While they were here, my Dad picked up a used child's bicycle for my daughter and stripped it down, fixed it up, and repainted it.  Somewhere in there, he had need of a set of small files - I'll be danged if I know what for.

When they went home, he left that set of files here along with the electric lawn mower (and very long extension cable) he'd bought to take care of the yard in the rented house. 
I still use the lawn mower and extension cable around my own house - and that set of files is still in my little workshop in the garage.

When I went to use the files yesterday (to smooth the end of a screw I'd cut to mount a motor on a vintage Kayser vibrating shuttle sewing machine that I'm working on,) I noticed that the package the files were in was in pretty bad shape.

I rooted around a bit, and found a couple of scraps of black leather that seemed big enough, and decided I'd make a new case to keep my Dad's files together.

It's not like the files themselves are special - he bought them marked down from the "cheap stuff" bin in the local hardware store.  I could easily buy a new set, and in better quality.  He gave them to me, though, so I'd prefer to hang on to them.  Besides, they still work just fine so it'd be stupid to throw them away just to replace them with new ones in a better case.

I made some measurements, then sketched out a couple of patterns in Inkscape.

Making the patterns and cutting the leather took longer than sewing the pouch together did.

As I've mentioned, I'm not really all that good at this kind of stuff.  I like making things, but I need more practice in doing it.

Still, scraggly and messed up as it is, the new pouch is better than the torn up and falling apart original pouch.

The individual tool pouches aren't evenly spaced, the folded over edges of the cover flap aren't even, and the folded over bottom edge went crooked.

If you want to get better, you've got to practice.  As long as the results are usable, even practice pieces are a win.  This one's a win.

I hang on to a lot of stuff for such sentimental reasons. 

My Dad gave me the Telequipment D43 oscilloscope I use for electronics, and for which I wrote the D43 oscilloscope camera software. I could buy a new scope - ones with features far in advance from the D43 are available for only a few hundred Euros.  I'd rather use my old analog buddy that reminds me of my Dad.

I've repaired both the lawn mower and the extension cord I mentioned above at least one time each.  I've fixed them and kept them, and think of my Dad when I use them.

My adult children got together and bought the vintage Adler class 8 sewing machine that I use.  If all I wanted were a full on leather sewing machine, I'd just go shell out a couple of hundred Euros for a used patcher and be done with it.  My kids gave me the Adler, though, and I find it to be one of the most beautiful machines I've ever seen - despite its age and wear.  I've learned more about sewing and sewing machines in getting my Adler to run than I'd have ever learned otherwise - including all the stuff that went into building the Bigfoot controller.

Old stuff isn't always junk to dispose of, and new stuff isn't always an improvement over the old stuff.