For anyone (at all) still with me on this, now for the models railway and typewriter – not a sentence I would have expected to write.

I knew nothing about model railways but an Oxfam instinct made me say yes when someone donating boxes of books said, ‘By the way, do you want some model railway stuff?’

And, I have watched enough (actually more than enough) Antiques Roadshow to know that can be valuable stuff.

It came in four large boxes and an old suitcase, and I went to get my haircut.

‘Don’t suppose you know anyone who knows about model railways?’ I said.

‘Strange you should say that,’ said my hairdresser, ‘ One of my kid’s godfather is a model railway enthusiast.’

So, the lovely model railway enthusiast and ex-real-train-driver came to help and spent an afternoon looking at what we had.

Lots of it is not of much value but will make a lovely display on the table. 

Some of it, we might be able to sell online.

We have track by the plenty – straight and curved; we have signal boxes and signals; we have a suspension bridge; we have old 125 carriages; we have freight wagons; we have christmas trees; we have grass coloured stuff and pink stuff for putting blossom on your model trees….

(And that is more semi colons than I have used in a long time.)

And, I now know considerably more about model railway stuff than I ever thought I would.

I do know quite a bit about typewriters.

When I was a young journalist, shortly after the Boer War, we had never heard of desktop computers.

We had shared or communal typewriters – never quite enough to go round if we were all in newsroom at once.

And indeed, one of the (shared) typewriters was a really old ‘upright’ one which probably explains why I bash the keys of my Mac too hard indeed.

When you were on the day shift you went into the newsroom and grabbed a typewriter and hoped to get a half way decent one.

One of them, I remember, was so well used the ‘e’ had worn out. So, once you had typed your story, you had to go back through it pencilling in all the ‘e’s missing from your deathless prose.

For every story we wrote, we had two sheets of very thin, poor paper and sandwiched inside was a sheet of carbon paper so we had a copy of what we wrote in case the newspaper got sued and needed to prove what we had written.

Some (indeed sometimes, most) of what we wrote ended up on the spike – literally a sharp spike on the news editor’s desk on which he (and it was always a he) impaled stories that were not going to make it into the next day’s paper.

If you wanted to look up some background to a story, you would go to the librarian and ask for the relevant packet.

And it was a cardboard packet of newspaper clippings and sometimes spiked copy which he ( and it always was a he) had thought to save and file under that particular packet heading – it was sometimes (often) a lottery as to what was in any packet and how relevant its contents might be to what you wanted to research.

We would have thanked any god for Google.

So, after the rinse aid and tins of salmon, I was very gratified to find this.

It turns out to be worth £50. ( Thanks to those very same gods for eBay.)

We will put it on the table with books that would (probably) have been written on a typewriter – not a quill, or fountain pen or a laptop.

So, Hemmingway, Enid Blyton, F Scott Fitzgerald, E E Nesbit, George Orwell, John Steinbeck, James Joyce, C S Lewis, Sylvia Plath and any others I can rootle around and find.

The danger of this plan is that the typewriter sells immediately and customers look rather bemused at the random collection of books – but for £50 I am willing to risk that.