Another of those long attic finishes, the rustic patina of pre-use and pre-love in my vintage typewriter – a grand old machine, somewhat decrepit and beautiful – a Remington from the early 1920s.
Of course this grand ol’ lady has seen better days when we had ink ribbons, no spell checkers, no delete buttons, no white-out liquid, the days before electric typewriters. OK how old am I?
I remember those days well though I didn’t do typing in high school. To this day I am more or less a 2 fingered typist though quite fast if I might say so! Um, don’t we all have to be typists these days? Even NGE types now – including correspondence – with 2 fingers!
No more sound of a key being pressed for this old lady . . . . tap, tap, click-clack, click clack.
No more making a new line with a bing, a ding of the bell or a clunk when we hit the heavy carriage return to move to the next line.
Not for this lady as she’s completely seized with age & rustyo-arthritis.
A relic to some.
Junk to others. Not to me.
One of my cooler pieces, a classic gadget from days gone by that brings her own unique charm and style to the house creating all sorts of interest whether as a conversation starter, for visual interest or a prop.
I know some use the old typewriter as a door-stop.
This one is so heavy it would work better as a barn-door stop!
Some say these old typewriters are rubbish, junk and should be tossed.
“Never!” I say.
Never will this grand ol’ lady be of such insulting and immoral utilitarian use as a door-stop nor will it be junked!