Delightful surprise

I have a Gestetner! And an electrostenciler. And a supply of stencils, styli, cleaning pads, and black ink.

Andy came home yesterday and said "Would you like a gestetner? There's one out in the trash." So I grabbed my coat and went out and he showed it to me.

One gestetner, on its very own cart. One power cord, neatly tied around a leg of the cart. One e-stenciler, possibly the worse for sitting on the piled-up snow. One box of supplies, including an old baseball bat, a baseball cap, and an odd wooden spheroid and a package of Spiderman napkins.

The Little League appears to have been cleaning house. The boxes from the new computer system were also out in the trash. But someone cared: the equipment was clearly in good shape and recently used, and was left outside with everything except a sign saying "Please take me home."

So we did.

About an hour later, the garbage had been picked up. If we hadn't rescued the Gestetner, it would have been carried off with the empty boxes, the tinsel, and the pizza crusts, and the seagulls out at Fresh Kills would be ignoring it as only seagulls can. Instead, it's warm and dry, and confusing our cat, who hasn't figured out whether this new thing is safe to ignore.

About three people reading this will understand. For those three: it's a 4130, and the electrostenciller is an 1190.

For everyone else, a brief explanation: I am now equipped to write using my my nice not-so-new computer, print on the laser printer, and run off zines--or political leaflets, or anything else that comes to mind--without ever leaving my own warm apartment.

Rescuing a homeless Gestetner is a fannish way to start 2001.

Delightful surprise

I have a Gestetner! And an electrostenciler. And a supply of stencils, styli, cleaning pads, and black ink.

Andy came home yesterday and said "Would you like a gestetner? There's one out in the trash." So I grabbed my coat and went out and he showed it to me.

One gestetner, on its very own cart. One power cord, neatly tied around a leg of the cart. One e-stenciler, possibly the worse for sitting on the piled-up snow. One box of supplies, including an old baseball bat, a baseball cap, and an odd wooden spheroid and a package of Spiderman napkins.

The Little League appears to have been cleaning house. The boxes from the new computer system were also out in the trash. But someone cared: the equipment was clearly in good shape and recently used, and was left outside with everything except a sign saying "Please take me home."

So we did.

About an hour later, the garbage had been picked up. If we hadn't rescued the Gestetner, it would have been carried off with the empty boxes, the tinsel, and the pizza crusts, and the seagulls out at Fresh Kills would be ignoring it as only seagulls can. Instead, it's warm and dry, and confusing our cat, who hasn't figured out whether this new thing is safe to ignore.

About three people reading this will understand. For those three: it's a 4130, and the electrostenciller is an 1190.

For everyone else, a brief explanation: I am now equipped to write using my my nice not-so-new computer, print on the laser printer, and run off zines--or political leaflets, or anything else that comes to mind--without ever leaving my own warm apartment.

Rescuing a homeless Gestetner is a fannish way to start 2001.