Linda I think slate pencils were actually soapstone. They're not called
that any longer, but are available for quilters to use to mark on dark
fabrics.
Studebaker was an American car. You can find tons of photos online by
searching for the name. They always looked like upside down bathtubs to
me <LOL>.
I remember almost all of the original list and I'm only 52. I remember
grandma having a wringer washer and getting my fingers caught in the
wringer. My great grandmother had a treadle sewing machine and, you
guessed, I got my fingers caught in the wheel there, too. Grandpa left
the outhouse that was originally on the property after water was
installed in the house (before my time). It was very handy in the summer
while working in the garden so we didn't have to run back up to the
house to use the facilities.
All of these stories, while not exactly what I lived through, have
convinced me that my childhood was more pleasant than that of my own
children and definitely more relaxing that what my grandchildren will
live through. Then again, there are lots of new toys now days that
weren't there then, so I guess it comes out even.
Linda Walton wrote:
Slate pencils, anyone?
When I first went to school, everyone learned to write using a slate
and a slate pencil. The square of slate was set in a wooden frame,
and the slate pencil produced a crisp, clear line that could be
cleaned off with a piece of damp rag. (I've long wondered what the
material of the slate pencil might have been - does anyone know?)
Later, we moved on to 'sugar paper' and ordinary pencils. The teacher
had a pencil sharpener clamped to her desk, which worked by turning a
handle: fascinating. Once, I remember I had been given a special
pencil as a birthday present. It smelled of cedarwood when it was
sharpened. Much later, there was an aftershave with the same aroma:
every time I smelled it, it took me straight back to the thrill of
that special gift.
Yes, I too learned first to use a dip-pen, a steel nib in a thick
wooden handle, which was painted a bright colour. Mine was blue, a
colour I've always loved, and the ink was royal blue and we had our
own ceramic inkwells set in a hole in the corner of our wooden desks.
('Desks' plural - they were built in pairs.) Unfortunately, little
boys had a habit of putting balls of our pink blotting paper into the
ink wells. This was alright until the ink was nearly used up, then you
would get a bit of fibre stuck in your pen nib, and if you didn't
notice it in time it made blots all over your page. And blots lost
you marks. Grrr!
When I went on to secondary education, my parents gave me a real
fountain pen. I carried it to school and back everyday, along with my
own blotting paper, and my own bottle of ink. Thinking back, it's a
miracle those bottles weren't broken, but I don't ever remember it
happening. Biros were forbidden in exercise books - and examinations,
but allowed in our 'rough notebooks'. They are quicker in use, but
certainly change your way of writing. When I learned Greek, I had a
terrible struggle forming the letters, until I tried using a fountain
pen, which suddenly made it all come together. (But it wasn't until I
tried a pottery class once that I realised how the letters were
perfect for cutting into clay, a lot better than english letter.)
Another present, for my 16th birthday, was a typewriter. We didn't
learn typing at school, but a family friend warned me to learn to
touch type from the start, and gave me a book and a chart. I've
always been very grateful for that advice; it has been so useful ever
since - and my typing speed is quite respectable, now that I can do it
on a computer keyboard. My first typewriter was a beautiful modern
portable, but when I went to my first job I was the most junior person
in the company, so I inherited the oldest typewriter. It was a
terribly heavy old monster; I believe it contributed to the wrist
problems I've had for so many years.
Later there came the IBM golfball: not only much quicker and lighter,
(being electric), but also - joy of joys - it had a correction ribbon.
This was a second ribbon, covered in white gunge, with which you could
blank out any letter typed by mistake. Of course, this was no help if
you were using the machine without any ribbon, so as to cut a stencil
for the Gestetner machine, or cut a ribbon of paper tape so as to send
a Telex message.
Oh the delights of the photocopier, the various word processing
programs e-mail, u-tube . . . Did I mention that my first computer
was a ZX-81, won in a crossword competition?
All this may make it seem that I was born during the reign of Queen
Victoria, but all it really shows is that I grew up in a relatively
poor and very rural area, and worked in small companies that didn't
have much spare money to invest in new office equipment. Yes, I
remember many of the things mentioned in the first message of this
thread, but I beg to point out that the list doesn't relate directly
to my age. Oh yes - and, please, what's a Studebaker?
Linda Walton,
in High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire, U.K.,
where making Bucks Point Lace doesn't mean you were born in the
eighteenth century!
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