My Oxford museum home… with dinosaurs.

daytwo

A life sized cabinet of curiosities…

Its heavy air still seizes my nostalgic nose from my very first footstep inside. Its stuffed creatures still monitor me from every corner and kink of the room.

My feet must have contributed to the eroded curves of its stone entrance steps. My instinctive untamed child fingerprints will have joined many along its endless glass cupboards of oddities. My neck still cranes to take in the skeletal giants, as was required when I was two foot nothing.

An archaic collection that repeatedly takes centre stage across my own historical timeline.

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Day 36.

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I wasn’t being dramatic when I confessed of my addiction to china, and I did feel a surge of delight when I discovered this latest little gem. I might have even made a noise comparable with that of a pig. The squeal, not the snort. My parents used to treat me to a different species of plastic dinosaur every time we popped in to see Mr T. Rex and Mrs Iguanodon of the Oxford Natural History Museum. I’ve always wanted a pet diplodocus, although I’m not sure where I’d keep her. #100happydays #day36