This. This is my favorite feature of my house, though we didn't even notice it when we were house hunting. This old-fashioned, wall-affixed pencil sharpener behind the furnace in the unfinished basement was a pleasing, post-settlement surprise.
There has never been a better sharpener built, and we have one all of our own. Yes, you can still buy wall sharpeners, but they haven't the heft of this one. It feels substantial, like maybe you could sharpen arrows with it if you needed to.
Or not. Yesterday the oldest got an odd look on his face when I told him to go sharpen a pencil and start his homework. When I raised one eyebrow quizzically, he promptly caved and confessed he had broken the sharpener by sticking in the wrong end of a pencil and trying to sharpen it that way to make a two-sided pencil, which might have worked had he taken off the eraser and the metal round first, but he had not, and now the whole thing was jammed hopelessly, I'm so sorry, Mommy, very, very sorry.
So I took out a screwdriver, disattached the sharpener from the wall and brought it upstairs. And I fixed it. And it felt tremendous and made me get all puffed up when I reattached it to the wall in working order again, like I'd done something of great magnitude.
If we ever decide to sell this house, that sharpener will not convey.