Royal Magic

6-IMGP7361Ah, how sweet to find what one has been seeking. I found a 1923 Royal 10 typewriter, which it must be said is genuine royalty. The saga began after I wrote a book last year, titled The Magic Typer. Along the way I chose a Royal 10 to be the magic machine, as it fit the plot well, and when writing fiction you can’t go wrong with royalty.

Once I finished the book, I had the notion that I must have a Royal 10 for myself, after all. So I began searching for one like in the story, with dual beveled glass side panels. I soon discovered what was available was too expensive and too far away. Then by a stroke of good luck around a month ago I noticed on Craigslist a collection of old typewriters that had come from a former office supply shop in Vancouver. One looked like a Royal 10 but there was no way to tell if it was the correct version.

An email to the seller confirmed it was indeed a Royal 10 with twin glass. We haggled and he said he had a very high offer for it. That was the end of that, until a month passed and he offered it to me for a reasonable price. The buyer didn’t want it after all.

A courier went to fetch it from Vancouver. All day I waited in eagerness, wondering if it would be what I hoped for, or just a ruined piece of junk, and not even the right typewriter. It arrived packed in a large cardboard orange crate with a piece of styrofoam over it. I paid the courier, carried it inside and removed the covering. 8-IMGP7354

There it was, old but intact, dusty but not filthy, tarnished yet not rusted. I lifted it out of the box and placed it on the bench. I pressed a key at random and it snapped right up and thwacked the platen. There was an old ribbon and the original spools, a necessary part of the mechanics, since they trip the ribbon reversing levers. I slipped a sheet of paper into the platen which was a bit lumpy but not rock hard. A few taps and there it was, actual type on the paper. Even the red ink worked! According to the seller it had not been used since the 1970’s, when he cleaned it up for his grandfather.

I wiped the ribbon with WD40 and the ink began to flow. I like the idea of having an old cotton bi-color ribbon, since that is what was on this machine from the first. The mechanics are nearly perfect. Everything works, and no solvents or lubrication were necessary. I sucked out a few cobwebs with the vacuum and adjusted one linkage. The keys all work, as do all levers and buttons. One rubber foot was gone however, which I replaced with a cheap bung from a wine shop.

So that is the story. It couldn’t have been better: a Royal 10  acquired from an old typewriter shop where it sat for decades gathering dust, just like the Magic Typer! Now to order up some magic…

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I admire the symmetry of the back panel. The bell has a wonderfully pure tone. The tab stops are missing and the tab bar is slightly bent, but I’m not very concerned about such triviality! 3-IMGP7357

All the beveled glass is perfect, although there isn’t really much to see inside.2-IMGP7356

The left front foot was missing the rubber, but there was a thick felt washer still in place. The feet are remarkably well designed to absorb shock.

Parts of the machine have been repainted, as evidenced by the faint appearance of the original decals on the dished part of the front panel and on the paper feed panel at the top. If anyone has replacement decals please let me know. I have been polishing the paint and it seems that there is an endless layer of tobacco smoke embedded in the black enamel. Whoever used this must have held their smokes over on the right side of the machine, judging by how much more stained the rag gets when wiping the right side! Fortunately there is no tobacco smell after all the years. This machine is close to the last of the dual beveled glass models according to the serial number, as they switched to single glass in the latter part of 1923.

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How to Grow a Bird

The babies are 10 days old now, and have increased in size enormously. They should be in the nest for another 10 days before they can fly. When I arrived the pair were sitting with beaks up, and no mother in sight. Then a squeak and she appeared on the nest. A quick feed and then she was gone. One baby got up and stretched, then they went back to their repose with beaks up.

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momma arrives

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baby stands up for a stretch and a look around

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hey, there’s a world out there

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back to sleep again

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The Inner Harbour

A harbour is a body of water deep enough for ships and sheltered from the open sea. Many of the world’s cities have harbours, or should we say the reverse – many of the world’s harbours have given rise to cities. Thus it has been everywhere I have lived. Victoria Harbour is one of two that happened to be created side by side here at the south end of Vancouver Island; the other being Esquimalt, which is used for a naval base. The most interesting things happen in the Inner Harbour however. That body of water is presided over by the Parliament Buildings of the Province of British Columbia, the Empress Hotel, the old CP Steamship Terminal, and various other buildings of note. It is also an international airport, with seaplanes coming and going constantly.

My favourite sight is the coming and going of the Coho Ferry however, which I happen to have watched so many times I couldn’t count. At one time it was a ritual of morning break to grab a cup of java from the office machine and walk a block to a viewpoint where we could see the ferry leave at 10.30. There was a blast of the air horn and then she’d ease away from the dock and  back slowly across the harbour before pivoting and heading out to sea, destination Port Angeles, Washington. This ship has been doing that trip daily for over 50 years, and it’s still going strong. A few years back they put in new engines and she still runs like a charm, a simple boat with no fancy shops or lounges, and the same old hamburgers and hotdogs wrapped in foil like at a ball game. Last week a fellow came over on foot to buy 2 typewriters from me, via Coho. When the ship gets underway they play a recording of Bing Crosby singing about the Blackball Ferry Line, the owner of the ship. They’re down to this single ship now but once they were a major ferry line around Puget Sound.

My plein air of the weekend was painted on the side of the inner harbour to which the Coho backs up before departing. It looked far away when I began sketching and fortunately I knew it was about to leave so I painted the ship in first. When it backed up it came practically right up to my nose, whereupon it was several thousand times larger than it had been when I began, figuratively speaking. I didn’t even watch it go, as I was too engrossed. Subconsciously I figured it would be here later and tomorrow and probably forever, but one day it won’t be – so at least I have one more sketch of it.

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The Hatching

view from the sunny side – she always has her back to the sun

The baby hummingbirds arrived either Sunday April 8, or Monday the 9th. Anyways, on Monday the mother was feeding and the day before she was not. She keeps her back to the sun and so when I shoot from the east side my camera can’t deal with the brightness of the sky and the dim light within the tree.

feeding baby hummingbirds

I managed to fix them up as best I can, and they do give an idea of what’s going on. I was lucky to get a shot of the mother’s long tongue quite by luck.

Coincident with the hatched hummers, comes the first turtle of the season.

turtle #1

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Plein Air Sketching

Plein air: a term for sketching or painting outdoors.

Recently I read a wonderful book, Defiant Spirits by Ross King, the story behind the famous Canadian painters known as The Group of Seven. They used to journey out into the great woods with portable painting kits, and did many little oil sketches as studies for larger, more complex works that were produced later in studio. I had been toying with oil paint, hoping the magic of oil might suddenly be revealed to me, but my experiments with that medium have resulted in frustration, so for now I am sticking with acrylic, my favourite paint. Acrylic is simple and easy to clean up – that’s for me! I took my sketching kit out this afternoon with some 8×10 panels, a good size for carrying around.

I am trying to keep in mind not to overwork my sketches; to stop just before they seem finished. Usually they are truly finished at that point. I may have overworked this, but I hope not too much. It was a cool, dull afternoon on the side of the mountain looking out to the distant hills. I was lost for over an hour, as the sky spit a few random drops and the breeze caressed the hillside. Sometimes a grey day can be more beautiful than a sunny one.

April afternoon, Garry Oak meadow

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On the 7th Day

quietly she waits, keeping the eggs warm

The hummingbird sits patiently still. No babies yet to be seen. Nearby we see some other birds, no doubt thinking about nesting, or are they?

flicker chipping holes

spotted towhee, and a golden crowned sparrow

I visited 2 days ago, and it was raining.

I thought the nest was empty:

not quite empty

On closer inspection I saw that the mother was there, when she decided to shift position.

 

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Damn the Cost

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The new bridge is finally open. It cost over $100,000,000 for a bridge over a narrow channel. Fixing the old bridge would have cost one quarter of the price. But heck, now we can sell a pile of scrap steel to China!

Never mind – it’s National Poetry Month, so here is a poem.

Spring and plants awake again
Pollen in the air brings pain
Coughing sneezing, choking, wheezing
Eyeballs itching, drips displeasing
Nature fights against oblivion
While men destroy her
With hearts harder than obsidian
In the bough tiny birds nest
Because survival allows no rest
Mother Anna incubates a pair
Underneath the Red Hawk’s glare
On the street motorbikes race
Courting death they speed apace
Spewing toxic fumes and dust
Eventually they all will rust
Nearby on the hill appears
A looming condo confirming fears
All bow and praise the economy
Forget about your lost autonomy
Forget about the forest lost
We must have progress
Damn the cost!

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Hummingbird Nest Day 3

Back to the nest this afternoon, and the momma was sitting there when we arrived. No babies yet. Once again it was sunny and windy. I sat on the opposite side of the sun and tried to get some shots but the light was bad. Just then I looked up and there right above the nest, perhaps within 20 feet, sat a very windblown red tailed hawk. It too had the sun at its back so I had to move about to try and get a shot from a better angle. I was going from hawk to hummingbird, adjusting my camera and trying for a good shot all the while the wind was blowing the hawk’s feathers and the hummingbird nest all over the place.

female Anna’s Hummingbird

I bet the hummingbird knew the hawk was there – she hardly moved while we observed her, the hawk right above her nest.

 

Red Tailed Hawk

A few people passed by and didn’t notice anything, so we didn’t bother to tell them what we were looking at either. Further on we saw numerous birds and one oddity – a Rufous, or Eastern Towhee (Pipilo erythrophthalmus), an uncommon bird hereabouts.

Rufous or Eastern Towhee

The regular crowd was out too; one Great Blue Heron, Mallards, Song Sparrows, Coots and Stellar’s Jays

 

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Foolsday Follies

More scenes from forest and field:

Stellar’s Jays are back for a while in transit

established lodgings for sparrows, after years sitting empty

Grape Hyacinth (muscari) in the field

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Enter the Magic

very expensive Royal 10

the frontispiece de resistance

p.s. although I got some printed I haven’t yet published the book. I sent it to several agents who were too busy to even reject it! Woe to them when it sells a million copies!

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