Today my ink arrives nicely packed for my printer in its various colours. It is quite a good sytem, although I must admit when Mr. Swiss left for his golden oldie home I was left with a printer and had no idea how it functioned. Luckily my genius cleaning lady was an expert and due to her I now have it all under control. Changing the ink cartridge is no longer a problem, just pop it out and order a new one. I only order one when necessary, and then have it under control. Ordering a multi cartridge is too confusing,

However, reflecting on my first years at school when we were allowed to use ink to write our work, it was certainly something completly different. Our desks were for two people, and on the right was our ink well, a small pot filled with real liquid ink, although its quality was not the best. Somehow they put wooden pieces in the ink, for some reason, and so you had pieces of wood on the desk now and again. The worst that happened to me was when the other girl on my desk was left handed, meaning she was continuously using the ink in my ink well. This had the result that I had to keep bothering the teacher for more ink. Of course I got the reputation of becoming an ink addict. Ink seemed to be an expensive commodity.

However these das are gone. Fountain pens followed the real live ink. Biro was never allowed. I left school in 1968. I supose today the computer printer has taken over in the school, who knows.