My scribe assists me

If you remember League of Gentlemen, you might remember the shopkeeper calling out to his wife to help in the shop. Margaret............with a very long pregnant pause, and she would answer.

I issue orders from the comfort of my desk chair. "Kosov". Quite a few tens of seconds passes until the reply comes from his bedroom. "Coming Andreeew". 

"Would you like to help me sort out my pens, Kosov?" "Yes, Andreeew."

We had some fun, and made two piles of pens, one to put in the bin and the other to keep. I had three fountain pens tied together by a rubber band. One was an ink carriage, the one my grandparents gave me no longer had the squeezable rubber bladder to fill it with ink, it had perished, and the last still had its bladder intact. I remember chucking out the ink bottle a few years ago, after finding the ink had dried up. 

It is still strange to keep so many pens as I only use the same pen whenever I have to write.

Which brings me to my scribe, now plural. The few Christmas cards I sent were written by Kosov, in beautiful handwriting. I admire my lads' Indian English education so much. 

Phyllis got into act for a great niece's birthday, and wrote a card for me with some significant flourishes. She turned nine, and probably liked them.

It will be safer if Kosov writes the birthday card to my 38 year old Fire Fighting Nephew, but no. He camped up the writing too.

I must get back control of how my scribes write.

Crayons and dried up markers, and pens that did not immediately write were discarded.

 

The kept pens. The fountain pens are at the bottom right. There are some propelling pencils among the stash, because before I die, I am sure I will need a propelling pencil. 

What is this pen marked Yarra Trams? I think it must have been a giveaway many years ago. I can't remember it at all.

What is this curious pull out piece on the side of the pen.

Well, this really dates the pen, to a year I cannot remember. I remember the brand name Metlink.