Storytelling Sunday Three? There is no excuse for not joining in with this one - everyone can do it! Pick Your Precious is about celebrating the little things you love: those souvenirs, bits and pieces, things from your past you can't bear to throw out. You know, the special little something you have tucked away in a drawer or up on a shelf? Or the thing you love most in a room? Or the object you would save if you knew you had to leave the country? Your favourite things.
Ready to begin?
Pick my Precious? This month I could hardly lift it! makes me wonder how my nine year old self used to do it: staggering under its weight, searching out a spot for the potable office..
My Precious today is a typewriter. And I had to find it for you by touch. I let down the loft ladder in my Mum's hall and when I climbed to the top, I remembered that the light hadn't worked for years. So I felt my way along the boards, up over the dolls pram, past the picture frames until I found the case with the crack in it; and then I hauled it - gingerly - over the swathes of insulation and back down the ladder. I remembered the days before the built in ladder arrived; and how my dad would hoist himself up by his arms from a set of ordinary household steps. That always impressed; seemed so manly from a small schoolteacher who wore cardigans and lived in his greenhouse. But I'm getting off the subject.
Or maybe I'm not. The typewriter was his; and when he let me borrow it, I felt his trust. He knew I would be careful. It had travelled with him from a teaching job in Africa (the label says "Union Trading Company: Ghana and Nigeria"); and, when I was little he was still using it in his work. When I wasn't. My work was essential too. I had a family Gazette to write. I've already told its story here: it was full of homework poetry and self-important diary notes. Sian went to the Library on Wednesday, and borrowed three books. Or On Friday Sian received a letter from Mr. S. Wright.
Mr S.Wright: that was Grandpa, and you've heard about him before too. Within a couple of years both men were gone and the typewriter was put away. But by then I was happily filling exercise books with answers to essay questions. Every weekend: English or History, History or English. I had plenty of words for both.
Which brings us back to today, I guess. We brought the typewriter home. I dusted it and, after a bit of googling, ordered a new ribbon for the executive sum of £4.50. It's at least fifty years old and it works almost perfectly. Maybe you've noticed its work appearing on my pages? I'm even thinking of bringing back the Gazette. Little E took lunch with his cousins on Friday. Oh, but wait - maybe the blog has got there before me...
My story is done. How's yours coming? Show us some pictures, tell us the story behind whatever you choose: it's all good. Write your post, with an introduction linking back to Storytelling Sunday (so your readers get the idea, the more the merrier!) and come link us up. I'm looking forward to reading about your treasures..
..More information can be found on the Storytelling Sunday page. And, don't forget, any story will be welcomed. It doesn't have to be precious in any way at all! Whatever you have in your head will be just fine: small or tall, we'll read them all. And if you are reading in a Reader, click through now to join in...