This weekend Charles and I took a little trip out to the Poconos. On our way back home, I convinced him that we had to go antiquing. I’m glad that we stopped because we came across this beauty:
I knew that I would kick myself if I passed it up, so it came home with me. I had a typewriter when I was younger (maybe 8?) and used to love typing on it. There is something about the solid kerthunk noise that each key makes that is so satisfying. Plus, you don’t really have the option to edit what you write, so it is an exercise in committing and learning to live with your mistakes. I don’t know how often I’ll actually type on it, but it sure is nice to look at.