Inkwells

 Hi there

When I was 11 years old, at South Wellington Intermediate School, we were beginning to write with ink pens.  We had started off with what amounted to a short wooden stick with a nib attached to it.  Every sentence or two we had to dip the nib of the scratch pen into an inkwell.  The round enamel inkwell sat in a cut-out circle at the top-right side of our desks.  We would be lucky to write more than two sentences before having to dip the pen back into our inkwells.  

By the time we got to secondary school, after two years at intermediate, we were using fountain pens.  Same type of ink-well, but now fountain pens held more ink than the scratch pens; there was a tiny lever on the side of the pen that would allow us to fill it up with some ink that, if we were lucky, could keep us going the whole day without re-filling.  Ah, luxury...

My mother told me about when she was at school.  The boys would love to grab an inkwell and dip the end of a girl's plait in the ink.

Doesn't matter what generation, but boys will be boys, yeah?

above:  South Wellington Intermediate.  Just about the only piece of architecture I recognise.  But then doesn't every school in the whole world look the same?

above:  at the side of South Wellington Intermediate is what used to be called Waripori Street, but now is Te Wharipouri Street, going back to the original before Europeans ruined the pronunciation.  

A small piece of interest:  my mother's family lived in Waripori Street.  I have a photo of my mother standing on the doorstep of their house in her 1930s wedding dress, before leaving for the church for the ceremony.  South Wellington tore down several houses in this street to make a side entrance to the school.  I don't know if my grand-parents' house was taken.