Just My Type

Today something lovely joined the area of my house that is fast becoming my haven, my spot, my place to be…..and nothing more.  I lie back there and daydream while watching the clouds float across the sky as if I don’t have anything at all to do.  I sit in the midst of things from “home” and I feel like I am home.  All.  Very.  Necessary.  Things.  Tanning my soul.

But I digress.


I found this little treasure on a local yard sale site.   A very dear lady was selling this because she and her husband need to downsize.  I fell in love with her (the typewriter, and well, actually, her owner too) from the moment I first saw her picture.  She is a 1941 manual typewriter.  Can you imagine the stories she’s seen?  The ones she’s helped to write?  And the best news of all…..she still works.  I just have to change out her ribbon.

Well, the littles are thrilled to say the least.

When we were little, my parents had an old manual typewriter.  It was beautiful and awesome and had a lovely dusty blue case.  And they let us play with it.  We thought we had hit the jackpot.  We loved it.  You really had to pound the keys to make it type, as one does with manual typewriters.  It blew our minds that Mama had typed on it regularly.  That woman must have had almost as much strength in her fingers as she had in her spirit.

Years ago I had been reading “Wolves of Willoughby Chase” and its sequels by Joan Aiken.  I loved the story.  It has been a long, long time since I last read it, but I guess there is something in it that inspired us all (at my suggestion *ahem*) to play orphanage with all of our stuffed animals.  We created a roll sheet, typing each one’s name, one finger and letter at a time.  I can remember whole weekends when Mama and Daddy indulged us and let us take over the living room with our critters and our adventures.  The typewriter was used for everything from creating menus to listing rules of order.  We kept them all paper-clipped together quite efficiently.

I wish I were that organized as an adult.

I am thrilled about the addition to our family.  She has already begun the sharing of the stories, as I heard a few good ones as she was handed over from her former owner to me.  That was a delightful part of my day actually, meeting a new friend and hearing her stories.  She admitted that she has written more than one on this very typewriter.

I am humbled.  And inspired.

And while my stories might not get written on this lovely instrument, as she sits there watching me write, I know she has a high standard for me, and I intend to live up to it.  I shall do my best to think and remember and share great stories and edit and spell check and always, ALWAYS put two spaces after a period.  It’s just the right thing to do, you know?

She thinks so too.


May you find something today that brings you happy memories, and may you find yourself challenged to be the best you can be….


Love to all.



2 thoughts on “Just My Type”

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