To the editor:
I was cheated and you may have been, too. Did you ever use a treadle sewing-machine or any other treadle-powered tool? If not, you were cheated. This dawned on me when my 106-year-old aunt had very swollen ankles — twice their normal size, according to my cousin (her son and caregiver).
Another son, a physical therapist in North Carolina, had been developing a treadle machine, based on the old sewing-machines, for institutions. Fortunately, when home for a visit, he had left one for his mother to try. He prescribed two hours of 20-minute sessions per day and in two days, her ankles were back to normal. Meanwhile, She recalled that her sister, a seamstress with a treadle sewing-machine, had young-looking legs all her life.
I had just gone to the doctor for swollen feet and ankles. He saw no swelling, then said maybe a little, but insignificant. Apparently, he was used to bigger people with puffed-up whatever, not my size 6½ 4A-width feet and small ankles.
Right or wrong, if swollen any at all, I wanted back to normal, but had no room to set up an old treadle from a sewing-machine, assuming I could even find one. On the phone, my cousin said no need, that make-believe would suffice. “With feet flat on the floor, raise and lower the toes as if using a treadle.” So I tried it while we were talking. My “normal” appeared in 15 minutes. That was when I felt deprived or cheated, as my mother had converted her Singer to electric before I was born.
In high school, I asked a friend, Margaret, to let me mend a skirt on her mother’s machine. It was a treadle and, quickly perceiving my lack of coordination, she said, “I’ll do it for you.” Who knew then that, for the body, the treadle was superior to electric?
She helped me in other ways. We were neighbors at Nickerson Lake. One night she was frying green tomatoes. Weird, I thought. “Delicious, try some,” she said. I liked all things edible, ‘til then, when I spit them out! So, she saved me time ever trying them again.
The next time Margaret helped was for my wedding reception in the church parlor. Her mother, hearing that no refreshments were planned, offered to provide them.
Thinking of the two of them reminds me of Margaret’s maternal grandmother, who used to come into the JJ Newberry Co. 5&10. As she, a potential customer, and I, a clerk, conversed at the jewelry counter, she said, “If I forget to wear earrings, I feel undressed.”
I can hardly credit or blame her for a similar affliction which befell me later in life. Mortified to discover my bare ears out in public, I would hasten to a store for earrings, no budget breakers, but matching my clothing. My favorites remain a very Spanish-looking pair with large “amber” stones. They do bring compliments and I rarely explain that they cost $1.
A cursory check of the Internet has showed a treadle-powered lathe, scroll saw, a generator with an alternator that can be used for village lighting, an electric grindstone converted to treadle power, and directions for making a treadle sewing-machine. Although leg complaints are often about cramps or “crawling” sensations, there are also those clots that occur on long air flights, and my aunt’s type of swelling was from congestive heart failure.
Besides saving energy and air pollution, these treadle alternatives might save one’s life.
I enjoy 15-20 minutes a day of make-believe treadling while reading. My aunt and a few of my cousins may be seen in action atwww.treadwellness.com.
Byrna Porter Weir
Rochester, N.Y.
