We have two turntables. One modern player for vinyl, one hand-cranked from the 1930s for 78rpm records - the latter I inherited (together with about a dozen shellac records) from a relative who was born in 1904 and died in 1905. She gave us the record player when she had to move from her flat in 1997; we used it quite a bit to begin with, but now it's been living in storage in the garage for a while. A couple of weeks ago, when I set up my bookbinding corner, I started using the old gramophone again. It's rather soothing, working on a book while listening to scratchy evergreens.