So, the countdown is here and I am pacing around my living room in
terror, anxiety, joy.
I’m not talking about my Wedding Day, (although, woo … upcoming), but the acquisition of our Minerva Platen press.
We’re picking it up from Dulwich tomorrow, with a van, some willing lifters and an expert at dismantling. Then we’ll all pootle back to Canterbury and I, hopefully, will be able to reassemble it.
We have a number of projects in the pipeline using the press, all in conjunction with my university. I’m really looking forward to hopefully being able to help students engage with authors like Woolf, as from experience, I know that a lot of my undergraduate cohort just switched off and thought she was dull. I’m hoping that seeing, and hopefully being able to have a go on the type of press that she used might give them a handle to hold on to.
But for now: cue all the anxiety dreams about heavy presses and vans and conglomerates of people and South London.
Tomorrow’s post will most likely be a collection of people looking stressed loading cast iron press parts.
(edit: as I was just about to publish this, one of the other PhD researchers came in and said he’d leaked carbolic acid everywhere. Somehow my panic seems less drastic now).