Ahh, the label machine. It’s everything I aspire to in life. A little bit retro. A little bit nerdy, in a hipster kind of way. But a cool hipster, not one of these nouveau ‘jumping too late on the blogging band wagon’ kind of hipster.
Think what could be done with such a magic gadget. Instead of having plastic packets and cardboard tubes of pasta and lentils and nuts, and biscuits obviously, cluttering up my presses, suddenly I imagine a scandi cool kitchen, made from re-used materials, with shelves full of labelled kilner jars on shining solid beeswaxed wood.
In my office space I’m conjuring up a picture of an original apothecary sideboard or a vintage industrial metal cabinet, labelled of course. And my garage will become the nirvana of workshops with multi drawered wall hung shelving full of every conceivable nail, screw, rawl plug and stud that ever existed.
And that’s only the beginning. This is not just a tool, this is a lifestyle choice.
And that’s only the beginning. This is not just a tool, this is a lifestyle choice.
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Will one of the boxes in the garage carry a label with 'gadgets I probably shouldn't have...'?![]()
Giving a label machine to an anal retentive is like giving whisky to an alcoholic. It could be your undoing!
LolThat would be applicable only if I were, in fact, anal-retentive. Like for example, googling whether 'anal retentive' carries a hyphen...
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WANT!
So many uses, so little time.
I have had one for about a year, try getting replacement cartridges for it, next to impossible.
You can use a good indelible marker for that. When they are very small you can write on the top of their head which means you can always see who owns them.Also, babies are very hard to tell apart I find- they all look the same to me at 5.30pm after a long day at work
You can use a good indelible marker for that. When they are very small you can write on the top of their head which means you can always see who owns them.
Yeah, although once when I went to collect the children, all the children in the creche had 'mine' written on their foreheads. Took ages to sort out whose were whose, but pretty sure we got it right in the end. That was a bit embarrassing!