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It is only 10 clicks or so from Pikesville to Utrecht. It was only 3PM and it being Sunday even with the MTA I should be able to make it by closing at 5PM. I even hedged my bet by standing on a corner where I could catch either the northbound or southbound M-3 - it seems that it really doesn’t matter which way I go.

I had made a make shift work area – the balcony to cut on using scrap cardboard I found – a box cutter with a reasonable blade and quite a few straightedges. I was caffeine free and was whispering the mantra measure twice cut once. I was going to use my puny screwdriver as an awl.

Twenty minutes later, when I was ready to head back to the condo and try another day, a bus came from both directions. Picked the correct one as more often than not the cash box was broken meaning a free ride. The MTA is the closest to riding public transport in a country struggling to be third world – cash boxes on buses rarely work, the seats on the metro remind one of bed in hotels that charge by the hour, the brutalist stations beg tagging. The meanest trick is the GPS system that announces the wrong stations – it can be one station in advance, the same station all the time, or at random, I think it is Baltimore’s sick joke on the blind and deaf.

Waited another 20 minutes for the train, for a 10 minute trip.

But I was calm, went in bought what I needed thinking that I would get the discount that I do in Chicago – 300gsm blotter paper, book thread, PVA glue, bookbinding needles – want to see this get through security, passed on the awl – I am not made of money.

Heading down into the station, I heard the train coming, raced down, swiped the card like a pro, then down the two floors – for some reason Balamer has this useless empty level between the pay booth and the trains, a gigantic ante room when the rest of the place is empty to begin with – down the steps stick my hand in the door and I am in.

In most places this isn’t a problem but I am sure with other transit systems trains run on a regular schedule but here one isn’t sure, given the choice of waiting or getting on chose the latter.

Proud of myself, I was two – maybe it was three, I was listening to the GPS announcements – that I noticed the skin peeled back on the back of one my fingers. Luckily it wouldn’t be noticed on the seats of the train. You cannot eat but you can bleed on the MTA.

Lucky again. The M-3 was waiting allowing me to wait on the bus for 20 minutes for the five minute ride back.

Still calm, still professional, set up the bookbinding area. Made sure all the pages were cut to size. Made the front and back cover, printed out the portfolio cover – twice minor editing changes – printed out the title page and colophon for the book, edited the portfolio, then clamped the book, measured the distance twice, made sure that I could see the marks and using my little jeweller’s screwdriver – alternated between Phillips and slotted – started to make the holes eight of them. Harder than I thought but there were only eight so I could finish the drilling before I got a blister. The screwdriver wasn’t deep enough to drill all the way through but again not problem as I could go the rest of the way as it was only the back cover that I had to go through.

It was then that I realised that had edited the book, the order would be wrong. No problem as I could carefully rearrange the order once the holes were drilled.

Finished drilling I took the pages apart and found that half of the pages were upside down. Thought on how I could change the size and re-do the cover when I also realised that a page was missing.

Good thing it is only a hobby.