I’m not really sure what to say to be honest… gone are the days that an excited Daniel looked forward to getting out of bed to rush to this once captivating experience of archaeology even if it is a fabricated version of a much coarser, unforgiving version of commercial archaeology. The shelter from realism is a dangerous filter, one that I am sure will become apparent later in life.
Today I found myself debating with Sid the sloth whether a piece of Roman, that turned out to be medieval, pottery was the 35th or 36th shade of grey. The answer of which still evades me. Those initial gleeful days spent excavating every fragmented piece of indiscernible bone soon came back to bite as my attempts to clean with my trusty Colgate tooth brush, there are other brands of tooth brushes available, was inevitably futile. The only worthwhile thing to look forward to, to bring the day back from the ashes was a pasty from Pasty & Co, there are other pasty retailers available. It burnt my tongue. My original fears of trekking through trench filled mud was irrational given the elements faced in week two. I had never had rain hurt my face before but digging and mattocking in the rain was joyful and entertainingaccompanied by a family friendly game of who am I. The inescapability of time has however turned this game into a frustrating task which had strained my already non-functioning brain and patience. Kim Jong Cameron and Sid have now abandoned us into the loving embrace of Group D, though what hurts the most is that they won custody over Mavis. This has meant that Nathan, that was spared my company during week 1, has been burdened with my presence with our attempts to clean the already disturbed Roman road. A stone baked surface of soil has made troweling an endless pit of disappear and has caused much of my disillusion with archaeology. Is that stone dislodged? Well it is now… I fear Nathans patience has also grown strained so if I appear to lose contact with the world please check the spoil heap.
Despite my pessimistic blog post and pessimistic inner monologue while writing this blog post… I still have enjoyed my experience on site with trowelling part and parcel of excavation, though the overarching possibility of being reunited with Mavis gives me hope and drives me on. With only a week left there seems very little to be done though I am sure more finds still await. I’m still not an archaeologist.