Remember typewriters?

I still have my Olivetti portable stashed in the loft. It might come in handy if Armageddon arrives...
This was the window display in Waterstones, Gower St as I walked past on my way to work. I'm not sure what it's supposed to represent. Fir cones and fake snow = winter, orange leaves = autumn. Is it trying to say all these books were written using a typewriter not a wordprocessor? Why isn't there a sheet of paper in the typewriter? Perhaps they should have highlighted Truman Capote v Jack Kerouac and the former's famous remark: "It's not writing, it's typing."

The builders arrived promptly at 8am to start work on the crack in the landing wall. I left for work early to avoid all the banging and drilling as they removed the old sand and cement plaster. Realised why I don't do this more often - tube too crowded, couldn't even get on the first train. I prefer the bus but the tube is quicker, especially at peak traffic times.
Chompuss rushed to hide upstairs when they arrived which was the wrong way as that was where they were working. He needed to be shut in the kitchen where he has access to the garden. I had to pick him up and bring him downstairs. He rushed off with his tail bushed up to fox-size. I might have blipped the crack, its repair is the next significant event of January, but it would have been a boring photo. Plasterer arrives tomorrow then painters in about a week when it's all dried out.