A week of preparing

I was a Cub Scout when I was a kid. Be prepared was the motto I learnt as soon as I joined as a scab-kneed eight year old. Not that it did me much good. I’ve spent the majority of my life being underprepared, self-sabotaging my efforts to achieve what I wanted or what was expected of me.

Thankfully, in advanced middle age, I’ve managed to unlearn this. Mostly. Now, my inner Cub usually has the upper hand. I try to think of every eventuality. So with my print run being delivered next week, I’ve been preparing.

It turns out that three hundred books is about a pallet’s worth. And because that’s the volume, that’s also the most convenient method of delivery. Yes, the books will arrive at my flat in boxes on a pallet. So the first piece of prep was to tell the printers that I wanted it delivered on a truck with a tail lift. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t have a fork lift at my place. Self-sabotaging Pad would have assumed everything would be fine and then would’ve had to send the shipment back because it couldn’t be lifted out of the truck. Inner Cub Pad checked if the driver will have a hand trolley. Confirmed. Imagine me doing that Success Kid thing. 

At this point there’s a little detail that’s actually a big problem. The lift in my building is not working. It’s been out of order for months, with neighbours becoming more indignant as the lift-less weeks passed. Our ire reached its zenith a week ago when an engineer arrived with a newly fabricated part. It turned out the new part didn’t work. Still no lift. Still no promise of a date when it will be fixed. 

Without the lift, my three hundred books will need to be carried up a number of flights of stairs to my flat one box at a time. I’ll need help. So the next piece of prep was to find some friends with muscles. 

Meanwhile I started thinking about the logistics at my building. There’s a bit of off-road parking, shared space for all the flats, where this tail lift truck can park up. Should I square that with whoever looks after the parking? If I was moving out, I would need to get some sort of authorisation for a removals truck. I decide to go and check. I was steps away from the office when I realised that this was perhaps an instance where it’s better to ask forgiveness than seek permission. What if they said no can do? Better not to mention it. 

Then on Wednesday, the lift was finally fixed. Now I can commandeer the orphaned shopping trolley in the car park, load it up with boxes of books transferred from the pallet and wheel the trolley into the lift and then into my flat. 

I think I’m all set. I think I’ve thought of every eventuality. But have I? Really? I guess we’ll find out next week.

Thursday evening, I went to a couple of book events. Very different. First, to Daunt Books Notting Hill where Hattie Crissell interviewed Wendy Erskine on her novel The Benefactors. I bought the ebook a couple of months back but haven’t got round to reading it yet. After last night, it has shot to the top of my to read list. Sounds incredible. Felt weird to be taking photos. This is the best I could manage.

After, I popped into Dover Street Market for the launch of artist Oliver Clegg's book. There were a number of other, non-Clegg things going on, including Tilda Swinton launching her new book. The whole thing was all very fashion. Everyone looked fabulous. Refreshingly, there were almost no phones out, no Reels, Stories or Shorts being created. So it felt weird taking photos here too. Hence this furtive shot.

Next week: books arrive. Cover printing begins.