Tuesday, January 05, 2010

Medway valley, eye clinic and Museum.

1. We go by train along the Medway past fields and woods and station platforms dusted by snow.

2. Waiting in the eye clinic I see people going in, shoulders hunched, feet trailing. I see them coming out walking tall and smiling. It's a great relief to see Nick come out looking relaxed and happy.

3. Since we have to be in Maidstone, we drop into the museum. It's in a Tudor building (mostly mock) with weighty staircases, tiled fireplaces and creaking floors. We don't have time to see it all -- we focus on the dinosaurs (a badger has somehow sneaked into a display of fossil bones set into the floor); the Queen's Own Royal West Kent Regiment Museum (one of the treasures is a soup spoon with a moustache guard); and an exhibition of paper cutting (a delicate vine rises from a scalpel-cut roll of wallpaper, quite open to the public. Later, one of the curators tells us that they are amazed and delighted that it has survived this long -- "Because anyone could, you know, reach out and rrrrip.")

Over the field, the path divides and perished.

1. After the bridge, the hard path cuts across the middle of a grass field spangled with buttercups. 2. The hard path continues left; or the...