Where it belongs

Her first very own typewriter! 


And behold – gray is turned unto black…

… with some tiny correction fluid in it, acting as stars on the darkened firmament. When you don’t have what you need you take what you have – some carefully applied wax on the gray and dull platen brought it back to life. I have no pink fluffy dreams about using the same method on my Remington Portable though, it’s stone dead… The platen that is, otherwise it works as it did back in  December 1924.

On the train

And here we are, badunk-badunking our way across Sweden. And how long did it take until a fellow traveler expressed his joy over the fact that I had brought a typewriter with me to the bistro? Not long… To the keys again!

Thoughts about trip up north

And so the time for our annual trip up north has come. Night train to Umeå and then bus to Lycksele. A plane will take us home. So… my problem is the following: Which machine should I try to bring with me in a backpack? The Kolibri and The Portable are my smallest ones, but the Kolibri is, as we all know, a heavy piece of engineering. And The Portable? I love it and I don’t want anything to happen to it, a trip is after all a hazardous enterprise for something born in 1924… So, this poses somewhat of a dilemma. A trip by plane limits your options, doesn’t it? I can’t bring too much luggage on board. Otherwise I would gladly carry a portable along – and to write up in the air? That would be a club to join! I guess there aren’t a lot of people who do that nowadays… And that settles it! I won’t squeeze anything in a backpack, I’m going to carry the Kolibri in its bag!


I made some progress with the wax on this one too. I thought I had cleaned it, if not thoroughly, at least decently, but the cloth I used for waxing was black as sin by the time I was done. And the greenish Lovecraftian fungus-mucus that stained the cloth when I waxed the keys (again, I thought I had cleaned them pretty good, they looked clean to the naked eye!) showed me that some kinds of filth can survive a soap-soaked attack, even if you rub the area where it has gathered.  I wonder how many computer keyboards are as fun or rewarding to clean as the keys that give your soul a voice?