I spent the evening with getting close and personal to my Remington Quiet-riter, some paper scored from the recycling bin at work, and some pre-stamped envelopes.
I’d bought this typewriter just before I moved house, and I hadn’t had any time so far to spend some quality time with it.
When I first got it, it felt stiff and unwieldily. A morning spent with a scrubbing brush to clean up the shell, and a few dabs of oil and this beastly typewriter from the 1950’s came alive.
I showed a photo to a friend of mine at work, and her response was ‘Ugh! It looks mean. If it could talk I’m sure it’d growl’.
Anyway, I really just wanted to write. So I did. I dropped the typewriter on the back deck of the house, and listened to the trains in the distance while I tapped out a letter to my 1 year old Nephew.
Sure, he can’t read, but that’s not the point. It’s really a latter to his family, about his family. It’s short, brief and a little hello from the clan. And I hope my sister isn’t too upset by it! I can only wait and see I guess.
Till next time, have a great day.
3 thoughts on “”
I can imagine the typewriter, from its creaky demise, and how you lovingly brought it back to its former glory. I can see you sitting there, momentarily distracted from your thoughts as a train meanders past, rattling on its tracks and as you sit there, you look up and smile. As you return to your thoughts, you take a fresh page, threading it through, you take a sip of your drink, sigh and you begin…..Dear Mary,
And yes, there was even a dear Mary letter in there.
Each typewriter has its own personality and backstory, I am finding after a year of more concentrated collecting (up to 22, now!)
The stories your Remington could tell…
Do you find that you write slightly differently with each machine that you use?