Dig

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I have always had a huge fascination with archaeology, possibly thanks to an early introduction from Indiana Jones. I studied it at university for a time (and wrote essays on the possibility of the existence of Atlantis – I didn’t score too highly on that one – it was more like a creative writing project), but never got to go out on any actual digs – I chose the wrong university for that. Perhaps if I had been required to stand in a field and meticulously record the results of monotonous sand-sifting I may have had my desires crushed, but as a result,  I have always had penchant for digging through dirt on the off chance of finding a little piece of history. One of my “when I am retired” dreams is to volunteer to go on a dig with Earthwatch. My Grandpa used to subscribe to their magazine and I used to read through the details of all the upcoming expeditions you could sign up for in wonder (wow, it still looks super cool).

Mum and Dad have just had their old garage removed, ready for a new tool shed, water tank and raised vegetable gardens. Mum has been sifting through the rubble to remove big chunks of cement and has been discovering old shards of ceramic plates from before the garage had been put in (c. 1920?). The girls got excited playing amateur archaeologist and uncovered chunks of brick and exciting lumps of concrete (treasure!). I found a couple of chips of old plate and beauiful little delicate mother-of-pearl handle, with just the hint of some engraved flowers.

So exciting! Isn’t this what Summer Holidays are all about?

ps. Thanks for all the terrific words of support about my writing the other day – all very much appreciated. I am off to attack chapter 5!