To Absent Friends

I think the tradition goes back about 11 years, to a time when my brother and I both came over to dig at Vindolanda.  I'd gotten to know folks in my prior visits and proposed that the "American" contingent would host drinks at the Twice Brewed Inn.  I said we'd be tired after a long, long day of travel and the name Jet Lag Drinks Hour came to be.

We've had good ones over the years.  Anyone who is digging that session is invited as are locals we've gotten to know.

But if archaeology teaches you anything it is that things change.  Empires rise and fall.  Usurpers become Emperors and then sometimes shuffle off as exiles.  Sheep nibble on grass that covers once important communities.

And this year....Vindolanda had to cancel Spring excavations because of the corona virus epidemic.  It was actually a bit academic by then as travel bans had made it nigh impossible to get to the UK without a paddle.

So I've timed this post to 7pm local time in England.  It's when we should have been congregating.  Tales of past digs would have been repeated, tales of off season doings told for the first time.  For a while we had a peculiar fellow who was very anti-monarchy so we've never done "The Loyal Toast" to the reigning sovereign.  But Royal Navy toasts are always good.

There's actually a traditional one for Thursdays that goes "A Bloody War or a Sickly Season", which seems pretty ruthless until you realize that deaths of the officers above you was the quickest route to promotion.

But no, our little gang has plenty of seniority already, no need to be reminded of hard times or to wish ill for our elders.

But there is the traditional toast for Sundays that is always offered.  As the member with the most (visible) grey hairs I usually offer it up.  And I shall do so now virtually for lack of a better option.

Raising a glass towards the Netherlands for Pierre and Sasha, towards the UK for Anthea, Pete and Sandy, towards the West for Scott from L.A. and in no particular direction towards the realms of whimsy where Sue lives I say warmly if sadly:

"To Absent Friends"