"Live as if you will die tomorrow. Learn as if you will live forever." --Mahatma Gandhi
For my Landscape Archaeology class we were assigned to carry out a survey of a site of our professors' choosing. We ended up driving to Cold Newton. It is suspected to be a Roman villa sitting inside a prehistoric enclosure. As we packed up the Land Rover it became apparent there weren't enough seats so one of us would have to sit in the back. The two professors got the front seats. Peter is about as tall as a tree so it was obvious he was not going to be squished. James is a pretty big guy and taller than me so he got the backseat and not the trunk area. Me being tiny... I like to call myself fun sized... got the small area behind the magnetometer, total station, rods, reels, ropes, tapes, resistivity stuff, everyone's bags and their shoes. Lucky me!
On the way to an archaeological site you generally learn that everyone has a blunt, crass and genuinely dirty side. We decided to tell awful pick up lines to pass the time. Here's a small sample:
"I hear you have some good earthworks. Can I survey your field?"
"I'm going to stick these probes all over that field."
"Those are some mighty fine probes you have there. Standard size?"
Yes I know we're gross, but it's entertaining and slightly awkward when it's around people who are going to be grading your papers.
We get there the first day and set up the baseline and start to survey the field and I was on resistivity duty with James, Peter and my professor Mark. We had to set up lines to walk evenly so the picture of what lies below is not distorted. One thing about that field is the poop... I have NEVER seen so much sheep poop in my life. If I was in a horror movie about poop this would be the mother of all site locations. Don't worry there isn't a picture for that. You're welcome.
Moving on... I have gotten stuck with a project that analyzes oysters from Dudley castle to determine change over time and where the oysters originated for various reasons. I have had to analyze over 6000 and have about 3 times more of that to do over the summer. This is how a casual conversation went during the dig.
Mark- (to no one in particular) "I wonder who that poor person is who got stuck analyzing those billions of oyster shells is."
Me- (shoulders slump, slow turn, desperately sad look on my face) .... it's me....
Mark- "wow you got screwed"
You know you have a crap task when a professor says that to you.
The next day was a torrential downpour like I had never seen before so we got the day off... but not before being forced to walk to campus and get the results of our previous surveys and then walk back.
We went out the day after once it had cleared up. Just picture a field of sheep quietly grazing in an English countryside. That's what it was like the first day. Not sure what triggered it, but the next day was the sheep version of Alfred Hitchcock's "Birds". EVERY sheep and there were probably 100 were running towards the flimsy gate baaaahing their heads off. A few of them even tried to ram their heads against the gate to try and open it. To an American this is alarming... especially one with a bad history with sheep. When I was younger I tried to pet a sheep and all it tried to do was eat my shorts I was wearing. I've never liked sheep since unless they are cooked and on a plate in front of me. I guess that's karma.
My reaction to this Hitchcock-esque sheep "attack" and the fact that I had to go into this field went something like this:
I remained unscathed and survived the sheeps' psychological warfare. Every now and again when I was standing by a hedge one would baaa at me in a strangely low tone out of nowhere. Not a reassuring occurrence. I think they knew I rather enjoy lamb.
As we surveyed the field we had to hold the cord that connected the machine to the probes in the ground. The other person not jamming the machine into the ground has to move the marker line another meter away to they can continuously survey. This being extremely boring decided to make it interesting. I would run along and move the lines which can only be described as doing what the ribbon twirlers in the olympics do then sprinted towards the other end of the field, did a limbo move under the other wire and people walking. I also performed zumba (I teach it) at random points of the day. Needless to say everyone was amused. Well minus my professor who I managed to entangle and trip... twice... good thing he has a sense of humor! Maybe there was a reason I ended up in the back of the land rover each time. Cool kid section? Yeah, I'll go with that.
2 weeks later and I STILL can't get the poop off my boots. Stupid sheep.
We had one last day out in the field so I donned my stylish poop encrusted boots. I bet that's a pleasant mental image, but just imagine how I felt actually wearing them. We mapped out the entire field to get a topographical map. It went flawlessly with the sheep except for one encounter with a very determined lamb. I had noticed a lamb had lost its mother and was running around the field making noise and exploring. I pointed it out to my friend Pete and at that very second it stopped, turned around from running in the opposite direction and looked at me dead in the eye.
At this point it's about 50ft away from me so I'm thinking okay no big deal it's a lamb I've probably eaten ones bigger than this. I swear it thought I was it's mother. It ran at a full sprint right at me. At this point I am slightly uncomfortable on the inside, but trying to remain calm on the outside. This lamb aka undercover assassin stopped about 10ft from where I was and just stared at me and followed me around for 10 minutes. I'm convinced all it wanted to do was scare me. Mission: Complete.
It's time for another one of my drawings.... Yes I know it looks like a fuzzy crocodile, but it was just as menacing. As a general warning to the public: Watch out for lambs. They have an evil side.
"The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read." --Mark Twain
(I do not own this picture)
