We went to visit my mother-in-law this weekend, which I think was a nice reward for hitting a deadline that has kept me off the internet and locked in my office for a couple of weeks. One of the best things about visiting her is that she is just as much of a coffee fiend as I am. There is always freshly-made coffee and very large mugs, and if the pot is running low, it's perfectly acceptable to make another. Even if it's the fourth time that day. This is a fine quality in a hostess.
Our big project this weekend was to get hergarage sorted. This is my favorite kind of project, because it involves organizing stuff, which I love - and even better, organizing someone else's stuff, so I don't get overly sentimental. Among our discoveries: a long-missig silk scarf (tucked inside the spare wellies) my sister-in-law's old Brownie uniform, huge pieces of burlap used to wrap bales of cotton, funky baskets and trays, an armoire made by her grandfather, and a collection of canning supplies that ensures my mother-in-law is well-equipped to handle the zombie apocalypse.
And then there was this:
Which belonged to Boyo's grandmother, apparently, and is now residing in my office, waiting to be cleaned up and displayed. Because my mother-in-law is the nicest.
SOME PEOPLE were less enthusiastic about my find.
Him: "What is that?"
Me: "A typewriter! Isn't it cute?"
Him: "It's old."
Me: "It's vintage."
B: "It's old. What are you doing with it?"
Me: "Putting it in the van! It's coming to live with us."
Him: "You have a typewriter. And it doesn't work."
Me: "Now I have a collection."
Needless to say, he refused to let anything else come home with us. Which made me sad, because I found this table, which just needs a coat of paint and then would make a nice little desk downstairs.
Now, something you don't know about my husband -- and something that, should you meet him sometime, you will not actually believe, because he is so sweet and funny and generally delightful -- is that he is the most stubborn person on the planet. I am a snarky little curmudgeon, so no one ever believes this, but it is completely true.
Which is why I passed on the armoire. And the canning supplies. And the cool wooden tray that would have held my knitting so nicely. I didn't even ask about them. I'd gotten an adorable typewriter, after all, and there was no need to be greedy. Besides, there was one more treasure my heart was set on. If I asked, he'd say no and dig his heels in.
So I didn't ask. I informed, and popped it in my suitcase before he could work up a case of stubborn.
He's not thrilled, but I am, and so are the girls, who are already plotting to wear it when they're tall enough. Somewhere in OUR garage are the rest of his letters, which I plan to find and sew on. I said on twitter a while back that if I didn't love an item -- or if it wasn't necessary -- it wasn't coming into my house. Happily, this qualifies.
A very good weekend indeed.