It isn't really all about the finds....
Having listened to the thunder the night before followed by the hail, I walked to the dig pondering Dan’s request for the weather, rain at night and sun in the day. Perhaps I would be able to see my feature more clearly today but as I turned up early, surprising all things considered, I realised my feature would have to wait - it was finds time.
As we trundled to Albion Street with me unsurprisingly lumbered with the wheelbarrow full of finds, the bragging and banter started trying to claim the best find. I stayed quiet knowing full well my best find wouldn’t make it into most people's top ten, but for the time being it didn’t matter. I had all the finds, but I wasn’t going to make a quick exit - the wheelbarrow was too rusty and slow for that.
We had the quick introduction from Julie, but as she began to finish my eyes began wandering behind me to all the bags of finds knowing we were going to get one each and I wanted a good one. “Ok everybody get a bag” Julie perked up, but I didn’t wait for the end of the sentence. I had swivelled round and was hunting through the bags before she had finished but my impatience was infectious and before I knew it I was being jostled for position around the trolley of the finds. It got quite heated with plenty of argy bargee but I was standing my ground.
Jonathan was determined to have his die and quickly found it, but everyone else was just picking the biggest bags leaving me looking through an ever smaller pile before I realised I was the only one left and my face become forlorn. Undeterred, I realised I had started and I may as well finish - evaluating, deciding on a bag that seemed to have a broad selection of finds if none of them particularly good.
Although cleaning isn’t my speciality, as the room will testify, I thought how hard can it be? So, I quickly got stuck in, realising perhaps I should do my room if it is this easy. Then I hit some fragile bone. My idyllic ideas about cleaning were shattered like the nineteenth century glass bottles I had just cleaned and my room was going to remain messy.
After a few hitches, I might have very nearly dropped my glass finds tray on the floor, I completed the bag and placed it to dry thinking: Why didn't I find any of this? I resolved to be more underhanded in getting finds, but as we returned from lunch I realised my new found plans would have to wait. I was still digging my feature in the middle of the trench by myself, but at least I had found what appeared to be a wall followed by a piece of black pottery bigger than my hand.
I was reasonably happy for a full minute before Jonathan found another die and I tried not to break the small glass pieces I was digging up, but I was better than that and I was going to find a coin. Well, I'm sure I’ve got a chance to find a coin, but it had to wait. Context sheets needed filling out and other people’s finds need bagging, but tomorrow is another day and another chance to find something good, other than a wall.
As we trundled to Albion Street with me unsurprisingly lumbered with the wheelbarrow full of finds, the bragging and banter started trying to claim the best find. I stayed quiet knowing full well my best find wouldn’t make it into most people's top ten, but for the time being it didn’t matter. I had all the finds, but I wasn’t going to make a quick exit - the wheelbarrow was too rusty and slow for that.
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| Dan doesn't realise walls are better than finds! Cheer up! |
We had the quick introduction from Julie, but as she began to finish my eyes began wandering behind me to all the bags of finds knowing we were going to get one each and I wanted a good one. “Ok everybody get a bag” Julie perked up, but I didn’t wait for the end of the sentence. I had swivelled round and was hunting through the bags before she had finished but my impatience was infectious and before I knew it I was being jostled for position around the trolley of the finds. It got quite heated with plenty of argy bargee but I was standing my ground.
Jonathan was determined to have his die and quickly found it, but everyone else was just picking the biggest bags leaving me looking through an ever smaller pile before I realised I was the only one left and my face become forlorn. Undeterred, I realised I had started and I may as well finish - evaluating, deciding on a bag that seemed to have a broad selection of finds if none of them particularly good.
Although cleaning isn’t my speciality, as the room will testify, I thought how hard can it be? So, I quickly got stuck in, realising perhaps I should do my room if it is this easy. Then I hit some fragile bone. My idyllic ideas about cleaning were shattered like the nineteenth century glass bottles I had just cleaned and my room was going to remain messy.
After a few hitches, I might have very nearly dropped my glass finds tray on the floor, I completed the bag and placed it to dry thinking: Why didn't I find any of this? I resolved to be more underhanded in getting finds, but as we returned from lunch I realised my new found plans would have to wait. I was still digging my feature in the middle of the trench by myself, but at least I had found what appeared to be a wall followed by a piece of black pottery bigger than my hand.
I was reasonably happy for a full minute before Jonathan found another die and I tried not to break the small glass pieces I was digging up, but I was better than that and I was going to find a coin. Well, I'm sure I’ve got a chance to find a coin, but it had to wait. Context sheets needed filling out and other people’s finds need bagging, but tomorrow is another day and another chance to find something good, other than a wall.
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