Behind the Scenes at the Museum

'Behind the Scenes at the Museum' was a fabulous book I read at the cottage a few years back. A first novel by Kate Atkinson, it facinated me. Read it, if you haven't. It won a number of prizes, but what drew me in was her unique use of literary devices -- such as telling the reader in the last sentence of a chapter what horrible thing happens in the next. So one had to read on and was never disappointed.

Now, I am living "behind the scenes at the museum" because I work at the War Museum. What fun it is! I deal with aged vets who take their roles as "living artifacts" in the various galleries very seriously. Dedicated Canadians beyond belief, they come in for coffee when they have given a tour and I just love listening to them chat. They actually discuss real battles in which they have fought and their comrades died -- coupled with the state of the cookie bin and the coffee. The latter are my responsibility and so far I am keeping up. A couple of times I have had to navigate a vet's motorized wheelchair in and out of the office because backing up and making a three-point turn proved impossible.

My life over 40 years as a smarty-pants career woman has been outstriped by my work making coffee for these men and women. What the hell does any of it matter when every day I get a laugh and a ton of anecdotes from such great people!? Everything falls into place and into a proper perspective. Every day these (mostly) men get dressed in their finest, pin on their medals, get into their wheelchairs, lean on their canes or walkers and head into the War Museum to tell their tales.

As for me, I have learned a new skill -- Quickbooks -- and am now the bookeeper for the "Friends" office. I have also been promoted from coffee gal to Deputy Secretary to the Board. But believe me, if I had not earned my stripes making coffee and schleping office chores, I would not have been given my added responsibilities.

As to high heels? I am wearing them all in sequence and they are all happy to be once again trotted out in service. Since I retired, my high heels have been gathering dust, but they are proudly serving my outfits. We all feel at home again.