Meet Me at the Museum

Daphne took a step out from under the porch, then stepped back—it was still raining. Edward ran across the parking lot to the Land Rover and brought it as close as possible to the shelter where Daphne stood. This was a courtesy I would not have expected him to show me. He would have done, I acknowledge, if I had asked. Only, I never would have asked. In Daphne’s position, I would have accepted that the car was over there, that I was not very far from it, and that I had legs. Perhaps Daphne will be better for Edward in some ways than I have been. She will force him to take notice of her.

Please do not be angry with the circumstances of your life. As your daughter said, nothing is so fixed it cannot be altered

It is often the case that when I am most anxious about how I will be remarked upon by other people, I turn out to be the most likely not to be noticed at all

Yesterday, when I was picking the early raspberries, I was thinking about the way the Iron Age people expected to experience another life after the one they were living. Whenever I pick raspberries, I go as carefully as possible down the row, looking for every ripe fruit. But however careful I am, when I turn round to go back the other way, I find fruit I had not seen when approaching the plants from the opposite direction. Another life, I thought, might be like a second pass down the row of raspberry canes; there would be good things I had not come across in my first life, but I suspect I would find much of the fruit was already in my basket.

I wanted to be able to look about me and learn from what I saw, not from what I read.