secondhand finds: just my type

A couple of weeks ago, at the same sale where we found my fun box of fabric, my husband decided to have himself a little treasure hunt.
For this particular sale, the entire contents of the garage/carport were for sale. While I was busy standing guard over a cool old army trunk that looked just like one my grandpa had (didn’t end up buying it), Zach decided that it would be fun to dig around in a dark, dusty room in the back. He was channeling Mike and Frank big time.
I was getting a little impatient (I’m good at that) when he came out holding a totally cool, totally filthy old typewriter.
When we showed it to the man running things (who obviously just wanted to get rid of as much junk as possible), he said, “What is that, a typewriter? about a dollar?”
The hilarious part to me is that at this point my husband asked me if I wanted it. Like I might not be so sure about a super cool old typewriter that costs less than gum.
When we brought it home, it was covered in a serious layer of grime and the leather handle broke when we first opened the case. But if you’ve been around this little blog for any length of time, you know that neither of those things really worried me. In fact, I may or may not have said to Zach on the way home, “Yeah, and now the exciting part is, I get to CLEAN it!” Yes, total loser. Can I help it if cleaning crazy nasty things gives me a super adrenaline rush? Except dog puke kind of nasty. That kind just makes me nauseous.
Here’s our new/old writing apparatus all spiffed up and enjoying its new spot in the living room:


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