Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Signs of the Times - England 2016

"Two countries separated by a common language" is a bit of an old saw, but it does have an element of truth to it.  Especially in situations where you have no parallel information to help you out.  I find signs in the UK to be a source of entertainment and occasional puzzlement.  Here's a few from the last few weeks.


I had never heard the term "Fake Bands".  Who knew that there were actually "Top Fake Bands" as it says in the fine print.  I neglected to take a picture of it but on the adjacent wall there was an advert for a local "Pub Golf" event.  Yikes.


A garbage truck in the Cotswolds.  As our view of the UK is heavily colored by James Bond flicks I expected spies in tuxedos and dark glasses to be emptying the bins.


It means drive slowly.  In this little hamlet the children seemed just fine but their dog, a scrawny whippet, did seem a bit dim witted.


And speaking of dogs.....Lets just ignore the notion that any spot a dog fouls is likely to be at least fairly warm.  This must be set aside for a larger question.  Are there in fact actual Dog Fouling Enforcement Officers?  What are the qualifications?  Do they have any additional duties?  Do they have to collect "evidence"?


This was over the River Eden in Cumbria.  Now I don't know about you, but to me "Collapse Imminent" suggests that I should get a blanket, set out a picnic and wait for the bridge to go down. I mean, imminent suggests you won't have to wait very long.  Or is this another of the silly Health and Safety things that the Brits kow tow to?


Recent flood damage.  No to the picnic lunch, but also no to going out for a closer look.

Let's close on a historic note, one that surprised me.  First a mile stone:


And then the unobtrusive little brass plate:


Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Home

Three weeks of being away and roughly 14 hours of travel.  I made it back feeling great.

I suspect this feeling was a little off target as I appear to have had at least one phone conversation and did half of a New York Times crossword with almost no memory of either.

But the next morning I was up early (or slept in if you follow my previous time zone), stretched and went out on the porch with my morning coffee.

Things looked great.  The lawn had been mowed, the flowers were blooming.  The air smelt like spring, and after the sheep meadows and excavation dirt of the prior two weeks it also had an intangible familiar scent to it.  It smelt like home.

The only discordant note was a very pesky robin sitting on a nearby bush lambasting me in chirpy bird talk.  What? Hey, I kept the feeder full all winter, the back yard pond is open for bathing, what more do you expect of me?

Ah.


I've always suspected that if I stayed away too long shiftless squatters would move in, and it seems I had the right of it.

Monday, May 23, 2016

Vindolanda 2066

2016 was another fun season at Vindolanda.  Good digging, fun people.  In addition to the usual crew we had the pleasant company of a young lad named Will, Break Year slumming a bit before going off to a Big Name University.

He was a good sport about it all.


Will is the young and slightly puzzled fellow in the above photo.

I have gotten used to being twice the age of young adults and now have to face the reality of being, as in this case, three times their age.  But this does appeal to my odd sense of humor.

Will took to excavating readily.  Who knows, he may become a regular.  I imagine him on site fifty years hence regaling a generation yet unborn....

"Stop yer whinin' ya mewling cubs.  Why I started digging here long before we had HoverBarrows and back when your fancy Excavator's Spa and Therapy Centre was nothin' more 'an a hut with mud on the floor."

"Ah, we had some times back then, we did.  The Terrible Ancients still strode the land.  Their pint glasses held a gallon and every spade they threw filled a barrow.  Gone they are now, all over the edge of the spoil heap to wherever we all tumble"

"Except....except maybe The Old Badger.  They say that years ago - this would be after Her Ladyship passed of course - he was tricked into entering a Care Centre.  The day after his hundredth birthday party he opened his eyes and looked about slyly."

"He mumbled something about walking to Vindolanda, but of course none of the nursing staff paid him much mind.  That was their mistake because before they knew it he had tossed the blanket off his lap and jumped up wearing a pair of old hiking boots he had been hiding somewhere."

"He was out door before they knew it and hasn't been seen since."

"I've watched for him every May since then, but I'm getting a bit rusty myself and turn the task over to you now.  Oh, m' Lads, Lassies and Othertypes, you may think he'll never get here, but I wouldn't bet against him.  It's a long walk and the road is not straight.  But I never knew him to give up on a thing he set his mind to."

"Yes, he's overdue, but when he felt like walking he never would consider accepting a ride."

Friday, May 20, 2016

Vindolanda 2016 Day Ten and Last

Some years the last day of digging is characterized by a frantic burst of activity, as excavators scramble to expose that enigmatic feature or keep trying desparately to find the coin that has eluded them all week.  But this year seemed different.  We started the two week session opening up a huge area, one that will keep teams busy for the rest of the year. When there is a 12 foot deep ditch and you have exposed the first 18 inches of it there does not seem such a sense of urgency.

An odd day.  We had a short but intense rain storm.  Here a shifty trio of diggers hide under the corner of the tea shed.


But just minutes later we were back into brilliant, spirits lifting sunshine.  I think it shows up this amphora top nicely.


We kept chasing our mystery wall here and there but never did quite figure it out.  It is real, but seems to have been bashed about in later years.  Perhaps the loose stones and empty voids suggest stone robbing.  Ah well, a later team will have to take it on.

The entire second week I was out in what turned out to be the less interesting side of the dig.  Everyone got rotated through for at least a brief stint in the great anaerobic preservation layers.  This is a new policy and I think a good one. Crumbling the chunks of laminate is great fun and a skill few archaeologists learn.  I can see that most of the newbies have been bitten by the bug and will be clambering for a return next year.

As for myself, well probably I will come back.  Nine seasons of digging seems a lopsided number.

Each year I leave the site with such mixed feelings.  Good times were had.  At least a few interesting things were found.  Friendships renewed and new ones begun.

But leaving means a return to "the real world".  And I walk away from the site with a last longing look.  There is always, always something great to be found just another inch down.

In that sense I am like Moses, ever fated to see the Promised Land but not to be allowed entry.

Farewell Vindolanda and all your dark mysteries.  Farewell.


Thursday, May 19, 2016

Vindolanda 2016 Day Nine

The days pass.  We scrape our trowels back and forth. Wheel barrows are loaded with dirt and rock, laboriously pushed up the spoil heap and tipped over the side.  The pottery shard bag bulges with the "oopsies" of ancient times.  Clouds gather, threaten and toss us a few token drops of rain as they scud over the hills silently saying "just kiddin'".

The morning flies past as hours tend to do when your holiday is nearing an end.

A good time to ponder small marvels.

A bit of Roman glass.  It gets put into the pottery bag where it will be cataloged and stored away on the off chance that some future researcher will be interested in knowing what sort of upper status drinking vessels were on Hadrian's Wall in the Second Century.


1800 years since it last saw the light of day. And you can still hold it up and see through it, noticing the fancy ridges and the swirling pattern of bubbles.  It would be a good thing to take a drink out of.  But of course the great appeal to us of the Romans is how much kinship we feel with them.  They enjoyed a quaff of well earned fermented stuff at the end of a hard day, and so do I.  In my case ale instead of wine.

Oh, the "Where's Walldo" hunt for what should have been a whopping great wall along the side of the road.  Well now.  What have we here?



Yes, it is a wall.  Of course it is running north-south instead of the east-west it should be following.  And the type of stone suggests it is earlier than it ought to be.  And we might, or might not have a corner under the big whopping stone.  Under that stone there are mysterious hollow cavities.

One day left to try and make some sense of it all.

Pub Quiz

When digging at Vindolanda my long time home has been the Twice Brewed Inn.  Convenient, friendly, and a quirky sort of place where you were made to feel welcome even if you dragged in with some digging dirt on you.

It was sold and renovated in the off season, so I am having to cope with change.  Much of it good by the way.

But the famous "Twicey Quiz" is no more.

This shook me to the core.  The Twice Brewed Quiz was a revered institution, one that had been officially proclaimed the Worst in Britain.  It was also great fun.

No Twicey Quiz?  Why it would be like the ravens leaving the Tower, a harbinger most certain of impending calamity.

But we adapt.  Another local pub had a quiz last night and we had a good contingent in attendence.


Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Vindolanda 2016 Day Eight

Ugh.

We were tasked with finding the front wall of a building that fronted onto our road surface of the last few days.  "It's right there, for sure!".  We tried extending our excavation north-south, east-west and downwards.  No wall.

I must admit, playing "Where's Walldo" has limited appeal.  But it must be done.  The spirit of Rome still lingers faintly about Vindolanda and today I was thinking about one of the lesser Deities/Virtues that was likely worshiped there:  Disciplina.

The god of training, duty and work.

Among the stones, grass roots and disturbed worms there were very few finds in our trench.  A small brooch, a non descript bit of lead.  So you start finding interesting things where you can.

As we "de-turfed" we came across these modern artifacts.  A plastic whistle and two 1970s coins.  I like to imagine a school group going through, the high spirited kids turning pocket emptying cartwheels while the harassed teacher blew her whistle until it flew out of her mouth entirely.


Every year I keep my eyes open for that peculiar natural phenomena known colloquially as a "mud stone willy".  This happens when a bit of soft stone gets shaped by time and water erosion until, well until geology imitates biology.  Not a bad specimen for the 2016 entry....


I have mentioned "pot lids" in passing.  These are just bits of flat stone that are chipped at until round enough to cover the top of a bowl or vase.  Not very exciting.  I have not shown one yet because they just look like stone hockey pucks.  This example was "close but no cigar", deemed to be natural and not artifact.  Geology trying to imitate artifact...




I prefer to show finds that came up in my trench but alas.  So for your edification this is what a really corroded and degraded Roman sword looks like.


And so it goes.  Tomorrow we will dive deeper looking for that wall that may have been robbed out for stone, or perhaps is elsewhere, or maybe does not even exist.  And if it does not, well, there will be something else down below.