Final thoughts or ode to an archaeologist..

Duncan said yesterday that I was essentially an archaeologist in training. I have given this much thought over the past 12 hours. I thought on it twice in the night when I awoke in pain, rubbing ibuprofen into my sore muscles.

So, what has my training taught me? I'd like to discuss tools. Being my father's daughter in this respect, I feel it is necessary to begin here.
The spade.
I can see how some people may name their spade or be overly possessive. There are many 'spade' considerations, I can dig with ease, yet can I throw soil forward with it? It's light enough to wield above my head in a 1.5m pit, yet is it short enough to turn round and throw the soil out over into the sky above. So many reasons to love one's spade! I became attached to one of Duncan's spades! I'll call him Leonard.

Trowel.
Love it, but it needs to be pointed enough to flick a 'find' out, not too sharp as to scratch it (or yourself as my bleeding fingers will tell you) and flat enough on one side to scrape a nice flat area. Love a good trowel me!

The bad of archaeology..
Being a novice, I clearly fell into the trap of 'student archaeology behaviour'. This caused much amusement to Fran, who snorted away at my frowned upon 'poor site' etiquette. Never have I seen Duncan's brow furrow as much as when I stuck a bit of soggy green board down and sat in the middle of the pit. Bad archeology behavior. Bad! Also it is very naughty to dig down to the next level. But if something juicy is sticking out of the ground, practically winking at me, how do you control yourself. How?!! I know Duncan, you just do.

Bad behavior aside, I enjoyed my training. Not expecting a good trainee award or a star but hope I was passable in places. But anyone who knows me (I'm sorry for you) knows the tools are the thing. Give me a fab spade, a big fat headed matic and a perfect trowel and I'm away!

So, my hat goes off to you archeologists. You dig like demons, producing tonnes (literally) of soil, you crouch down on your haunches (which burns so badly!) for hours. You draw natty detailed sketches, record like CSI and to top it off, with your bleeding, calloused, chillblained fingers, have to fill the damn thing back in again!

So hats off to you. This is where my training ends.