I am the proud new owner of a Royal Arrow Portable typewriter circa 1941!
I had so much fun looking them up when I got it home last night. I have always wanted one and this one just fell into my lap for a cool $10.10. My favorite thrift store "V.V." has a nasty habit of writing the price directly on everything with a grease pencil, note the price on the top right:
I think this a good omen and will serve as an excellent totem for this blossoming writer.
As an ardent admirer of old things especially of this vintage and I am just way too excited. I straitened out the ink tape that was all tangled last night and even hammered out a few sentences. It works perfectly, no dings, no scratches. Isn't it just the darlinest thing?
While reading up on them I learned that they have no "1" key, you just use the lower case "l", no telling how long it would have taken me to figure that out once I discovered it. I've notices the exclaim point is conspicuously absent. What is that about? I feel I overuse it myself, maybe that would solve that problem... Also I learned that the keys are glass; little glass circles cover the white on black buttons. Older non-portable models had beveled glass sides allowing a view inside the machine to marvel at its wondrous inner workings. Kind of like the clear desktop Mac of its day! This little portable model is more like the laptop of its day. It boasts such "user friendly" features as a glare reducing matte finish, it is stripped down to reduce bulk and weight having no noise dampening padding.
When I was little my Mom had her mother's 1960s mini type writer in a closet downstairs. It was pea green and had its own charm, but it was not near as cute as this one. I loved looking at all it's long keys, just like these:
I enjoyed all manner of tinkering, no torturing that poor little type writer. Kids are Hell on things, they can't help it. Note to self; if I ever have children I must try to remember that. I noted with satisfaction how efficiently the keys would tap the type onto the paper when struck one at a time, and how they would run into each other if you were clumsy and pushed two at once.
Here's a picture and link to a website that sells these and has some good information on them.
http://mytypewriter.com/royalarrowportableof1941.aspx
I wonder how something so cool ends up being given away to the thrift store? Well, their loss is my gain, don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all. I have to guess it belonged to an "old person" who died and their kids had to go through and clean out their house and just threw lots of stuff out.
I'd love to know about this machine's former life and what it was used for. Did it write boring business stuff, novels or mm...short stories? One can only hope. I like to think that it belonged to a real writer, that is to say, one who writes. I don't care if the writer was published or "successful" in any conventional sense. But I hope it was an instrument of a true wordsmith. I hope it helped someone create.
I love things from this era. I have a couple of gorgeous Singer sewing machines that remind me of this that I adore using. I am also a glutton for furniture of this period. Maybe hours of wandering through my Grandparent's house during nap time fostered in me a love of all things '40s?
Well I'm off to tinker and play with my toy. I can hardly "type"; I only took one class for it in school and I'm a terrible cheat, looking down at my hands frequently.
Time to buckle down and see how I do!
Of course typing on this keo boarfd is way easier than on the twenty pounf monster above. See how bad I typw when I donbtr look down
>? I;ve got my work cut out dor me1!
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Light
I'm waiting for things to grow. This is my favorite window in the house, it gets plenty of southern exposure. When I build my dream house it will have lots of windows facing the south so I can bask in the natural light all winter long.
It will also have skylights all over the place. Of course it will be out away from town so I can have my horses and chickens, and so I can see all the stars at night.
One summer when I worked at Philmont our showers were outside. It was wonderful! I love showering outside. When I build my house it will have an outside shower for when you get too dirty to come inside without cleaning up first. It will also have a skylight over the tub so when I shower at night I can look up and see this...
But for now I have to improvise...
I made my own starry sky to gaze at in the shower. It's not the same, but I like it. Nice huh?
You have to be able to improvise. No waiting around to be happy and enjoy life.
Be here now!
It will also have skylights all over the place. Of course it will be out away from town so I can have my horses and chickens, and so I can see all the stars at night.
One summer when I worked at Philmont our showers were outside. It was wonderful! I love showering outside. When I build my house it will have an outside shower for when you get too dirty to come inside without cleaning up first. It will also have a skylight over the tub so when I shower at night I can look up and see this...
But for now I have to improvise...
I made my own starry sky to gaze at in the shower. It's not the same, but I like it. Nice huh?
You have to be able to improvise. No waiting around to be happy and enjoy life.
Be here now!
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
on a cold winter's day
Today was a bright and cold kind of winter day, the kind that makes horses high strung and frisky; makes them difficult and fun to ride. What thrills I would have at the farm on a day like this! But not today, today I stayed home in town and just enjoyed feeling good for the fist time in days. Recovering from a sinus infection has been cramping my style but I got back to it today.
I got back on this feather tree that's been calling my name low these many days. I sat working on it through the afternoon; hours and hours of feathers feathers and more feathers! Twisting and twisting feathers onto the branches with wire, very repetitive and satisfying kind of work. I love repetition, it's so peaceful and calming, does good things for my brain.
Earlier in the day I stood at my kitchen window in the warm sun light for a long time, looking for excuses to linger there. I polished silver and washed dishes and planted some bulbs. I planted a pink & white Amarylis, and paper whites in silver sugar bowls. The paper whites always make me think of a friend's mother, I guess because I remember her having them in a window by her chair one winter. I don't know why that sticks out in my mind.
Do you ever have a people who turn up in your thoughts over and over for a time? Makes me wonder what they're up to, why are they on my wavelength? I've had old friends turning up in my dreams lately, girls on tall horses, friends in my old stomping grounds as I sleep. Maybe I just conjured them up to keep my fevered mind company as I slept...
...or maybe my dearest old friends are a part of me, always on my mind, always in my heart. People I spent many formative years with are permanently in my m ind, even the ones I haven't seen or talked to in ages, they make up part of who I am. I wonder if they ever think of me while they're doing dishes...while they're planting bulbs?
When this Amarylis grows tall and slender out of it's pink ceramic home, what will I be doing? Who's thoughts might I be in and not know it?
Will I have written about some of the things I have stored away in mind? I'd like to write about my Granny Jefcoat's funeral. I want to write about my Southern Country Woman Mentor Robbie Beck, who turns up in my mind more often than she would think.
Isn't it a thing for people to be so loved without them even knowing it? I have people enough in mind to write volumes.
I think this year I'll start.
I got back on this feather tree that's been calling my name low these many days. I sat working on it through the afternoon; hours and hours of feathers feathers and more feathers! Twisting and twisting feathers onto the branches with wire, very repetitive and satisfying kind of work. I love repetition, it's so peaceful and calming, does good things for my brain.
Earlier in the day I stood at my kitchen window in the warm sun light for a long time, looking for excuses to linger there. I polished silver and washed dishes and planted some bulbs. I planted a pink & white Amarylis, and paper whites in silver sugar bowls. The paper whites always make me think of a friend's mother, I guess because I remember her having them in a window by her chair one winter. I don't know why that sticks out in my mind.
Do you ever have a people who turn up in your thoughts over and over for a time? Makes me wonder what they're up to, why are they on my wavelength? I've had old friends turning up in my dreams lately, girls on tall horses, friends in my old stomping grounds as I sleep. Maybe I just conjured them up to keep my fevered mind company as I slept...
...or maybe my dearest old friends are a part of me, always on my mind, always in my heart. People I spent many formative years with are permanently in my m ind, even the ones I haven't seen or talked to in ages, they make up part of who I am. I wonder if they ever think of me while they're doing dishes...while they're planting bulbs?
When this Amarylis grows tall and slender out of it's pink ceramic home, what will I be doing? Who's thoughts might I be in and not know it?
Will I have written about some of the things I have stored away in mind? I'd like to write about my Granny Jefcoat's funeral. I want to write about my Southern Country Woman Mentor Robbie Beck, who turns up in my mind more often than she would think.
Isn't it a thing for people to be so loved without them even knowing it? I have people enough in mind to write volumes.
I think this year I'll start.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Victorian Rituals: Victorian Mourning Rituals
I just found this while looking up mourning art before bed. Mmm, that's the stuff sweet dreams are made of.
http://victorianrituals.blogspot.com/2008/10/victorians-mourning-customs.html
Victorian Rituals: Victorian Mourning Rituals
This blog has absolutely gorgeous things though, I'm dead serious.
Now I'm off to dreamland, hoping to feel less sick in the morning.
I am fascinated by death photography too...
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