The most vivid memory that I have of my Dad when I was young is when he was sitting down at the table in the front room tapping away at the letters of this old Olympia typewriter. Every week he would sit down and type all of his correspondence on beautiful headed paper, none of which have survived today unfortunately. I think that he typed everything because if I'm honest his handwriting was illegible to everybody, even himself at times. Sorry Dad if you're reading this from up above!
The letters lined up in regimental fashion facing the blank page are ever ready to fill it with its inky words. The black ink still remains from some of those old rolls of tape.
To me this is a true Olympian. Strong, beautiful and still as good today as it was on the first day that my father bought it and opened up it's hard cream shell with maroon leather handle.
Do you have anything at home that you treasure and instantly provokes memories?