…around 2 p.m. and the curator, age 4, led us in the front door, past the archaeopteryx cast on the side of the house (our own welcome sign)
to the main display. Earlier I’d been asked to be the copyist, making little notes of information dictated to me to accompany the curator’s drawings of his favourite objects in our house. His father found a box of things from his own childhood and so a few fossils from that were included.
Some bones from windowsills, teeth from the elk skull in the garden (a sort of presiding spirit, in the nature of a scare crow), a couple jaws from my desk
and an antler (also from my desk). The curator was willing to have his photograph taken.
The museum will close shortly and the curator will go with his little brother for a swim.