Aged and Infirm Typewriter Riddled with Rustyo-Arthritis


In a previous life I mentioned this old lady.

A lady with a long time-worn attic finish.

A rustic patina of pre-use and pre-love.

A grand old machine, rustic and decrepit.

A grand old beauty.

A Remington from the early 1920s.



She 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, aren’t we all typists these days?  Even NGE types now albeit with 2 fingers!




Completely seized with age and rustyo-arthritis, now, there’s no more sound of a key being pressed . . .   tap, tap, click-clack, clickety clack.


No more making a new line with a bing, a ding of the bell or a clunk when we hit that heavy carriage return to move to the next line. Remember?
No more zzzzippp zzzzippp when we pull up the sheet of paper from the rollermechanism.





 A classic gadget from days gone by.

A relic to some.

Junk to others.

Not to me.




I know some of you use these old typewriters as door-stops.

Some say they are rubbish, junk & should be tossed. This one is so heavy it could be a train stop!

I could never allow this lady to be of such insulting utilitarian use as a door-stop nor will she be junked!

She’s one of my cooler pieces bringing her own unique charm & style to our home.

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