|Typewriter picture By|
I would spend ever second I could tapping away on the keys and when I ran out of paper I would hunt around the whole house for more until I found some and then I would continue. I remember that typewriter like it was brought yesterday, I’d never had anything like it before and I remember sitting out in the sun at the old garden table with its dark, matte brown lacquer and rusting stand, its giant sun brolly that never sat straight, always leaning to one side and its old plastic pea green garden chairs, one of which we still own. I would sit there for hours with my mother at my side and one of the dogs seeking shade beneath the table and I would write. I would write all sorts, anything that took my fancy really and one thing that I would always do was write at the very bottom of the page of paper leaving a clear space above and in this space I would draw a corresponding picture, one relevant to the subject I had written about. One reason for this could have been that I wanted to illustrate my work, make it more pleasing to the eye however my true motive was to use as many pieces of paper as I could, so it looked like I had written more of course back then 5 pages looked like a lot to a 10 year old. Obviously my love of writing hasn't diminished though I no longer illustrate my work nor do 5 pages look like a novel to me and I, unfortunately, no longer have the typewriter though I do hope to own another one day, a vintage one from, my favourite era; I love this 1924 blue Corona No.4 typewriter:
|Corona No.4 courtesy of www.mytypewriter.com|
it would not be used for writing but simply an object of memory, something to remind me of simple days spent in the sunshine, doing what I loved and not worrying about anyone else’s opinion of my stories, something simply for illustration.
Another memory that popped up brought on by the monochrome fashion of the spring is that of my favourite dress, even to this day. It started life with my sister, a 50’s style dress with a full skirt, a shirt style top, sleeveless and a black waist belt. It was white with black polka dots and every time she wore it I was envious but I was too little and then was she was too big and I was just big enough it was passed down to me. I was ecstatic, I didn't care that it was a ‘hand-me-down’ I just couldn't wait to put it on. It was a special dress for special occasions; I remember wearing it a lot when we went away on holiday, I would be ready extra early just so i could spend longer in the dress. It made me feel so special, so pretty and when I twirled the skirt would flow, full and free, I felt as though I could fly away into the air. When I wore that dress I was the prettiest girl in the room, all eyes were on that dress. Of course I don’t own that any more either, not that I would fit into it anymore but in light of the recent fashion for the black and white I’m considering buying another just like it, a vintage one full of life and memories, one that made someone else feel like the most beautiful girl in the room.
|Gorgeous black and white polka dot dress courtesy of www.poshgirlvintage.com|