Sycamore Gap, Wisconsin

 To make any sense of what follows you need to know about this tree:

It is, or rather was, an elegant sycamore tree.  It stood in a low spot between two hills right on Hadrian's Wall.  It's just up the hill from Vindolanda where I excavate each spring.  It had become more than a bit iconic.  It turned up on logos, guidebooks, the Kevin Costner version of Robin Hood had the protagonists chatting right under its branches.  

Then there was a stormy night.  And in the morning this is what was revealed.

Under cover of darkness, the sound of their chainsaw drowned out by the winds, villains had cut down the Sycamore Gap tree.  It landed btw on Hadrian's Wall and did some minor damage.

People were angry.  Speculation ran hot and, I'm sad to say, for a while the wrong guy was suspected.  But honestly the pool of suspects could not have been large.  This was done by a professional tree cutter.  To pull this off in just a few minutes time?  Not something drunken yobs would be capable of.  Heck, they'd likely have cut off a few of their own limbs in the dark.

Eventually a couple of real prize specimens were arrested.  The trial was going on when we were over in May.  I won't give them any recognition, they don't deserve it.  Even their defense was crummy.  

My car was there?  Oh, sometimes people borrow it.  Your phone gps put you there and there was a photo on it of a gigantic slice of wood?  Oh, sometimes I loan people my phone too.  Say, didn't you used to own a plus sized commercial logging chain saw?  Where is it?  I don't remember.

Eventually each tried to blame the other.  Helpful hint, when you both try to put the other under the bus you just, well, both end up there.  The verdict was Guilty.  I'd have said Guilty and Stupid.

I'm mentioning this sordid episode only because my son and I cut down a dead tree in our side yard recently.  In case somebody gets all het up about the Chippewa Falls Crab Apple I'm prepared to say that my phone gps did show I was there.  'Cause its where I live.  That's not my (adorable little) chain saw.  And I don't know where either it or that section of wood are.  

I rest my case.

England 2025 - The Usual Odd People

Offered with minimal commentary.

Now, you might be wondering why there is no "Album Cover" photo this year.  It is after all a long standing tradition that we pose moodily for the camera in the fashion of some 70's band.  

Well its like this.  Half of the "Anaerobes" decided to spend the in between Saturday going to a big tattoo show in Newcastle.  It was rather..........well, I don't know exactly what it was but this was part of the entertainment there:

Yikes.  Could it be that the Anaerobes will split up, with one branch going sort of "Death Metal" and renaming themselves Anoxia?  Lots of flames, almost as much as on that 60th birthday cake, Pete!

England 2025 - The Usual Odd Sights

Wrapping up the trip to England.  I took fewer pictures than usual.  After 18 years of visiting the same place perhaps fewer things catch my eye.  But still.....

On arrival we usually make a trip to Tesco, which is a bit like a British Wal Mart or Target.  The last several years we've run into some of our digging pals who are on the same schedule.  Anthea, they were clearly expecting you!  Security nets and tags on all the gin.

And of course the usual product double entendres were to be found.

Our accommodation is next door to an interesting pottery.  Zombie Chickens and ceramic tractor tire planters.

Things in this very old part of the world change.  Or don't change depending on your perspective.  On my morning walk into the site I pass a crumbling ruin of a cottage.  I don't know how old it was, but this year there was almost nothing left except this.  Weirdly the metal hook looks nearly identical to a Roman one that I dug the next day.

Northumberlandia - Now that's a Big Girl

No doubt you've heard the expression "Coals to Newcastle".  They used to mine a great deal of coal in the area back in the day.  Which left a bit of a mess.  Some years back an open pit mine just north of Newcastle was tidied up in a rather distinctive way....by making the world's largest nude figure out of 1.5 million tons of rock and mine tailings.  Behold Northumberlandia, the Lady of the North.

I've seen her from the air when approaching the Newcastle airport.  Although she is posed somewhat demurely, you can't help but notice those 100 foot tall....er....mounds.

On our recent visit several members of our band of adventurers went in for a closer look.

And of course.....

That's Sue, our excavator-novelist.  She has a history of doing cartwheels over various landscapes.  While far from being a Prude, she did at least show Prudence in not attempting to careen straight off the giant nipple and down into the Cleavage below.

I don't get to use my Larger than Life tag very often, but the Lady of the North deserves nothing less.  

Bollards

We've gotten pretty accomplished at using public transportation in England.  It helps that the bus runs in front of our pub/accommodation, with the train only a few hundred yards away.  I have never been willing to drive in the UK.  It's the "wrong side of the road" thing along with the narrow twisty roads full of interesting things to be looking at instead of what I should be.

From the window of the bus we saw this.  And as it was only a mile from home base I had to go back and inspect.

These are traffic bollards, sturdy posts on the edge of roads.  Just in case a distracted, careless or American driver comes by.  They are of course outside the village school.

A nice union of form and function.  I suppose the fact that the tip of the pencils is red is just for that added bit of safety, not a reminder of papers to be corrected!  They look sturdy.  I bet they'll still be standing when students no longer know what a pencil actually is!

A Mystery at Corbridge

On a day off of the excavations we went over to Corbridge.  It was once the most northerly town in the Roman Empire.  Its history since then has been up and down.  The borderlands between Scotland and England have always been a "rough neighborhood" so it has been sacked, razed and generally obliterated several times.  This makes it a little tricky to figure out some aspects of its history.

Should you visit - with peaceful intent of course - in the modern era, you'll find a nicely excavated Roman fort with a very good museum.  And a quaint little town that has become very posh.  High end shops, beauty salons, that sort of thing.

But should you stray to the edge of the upscale High Street, down to The Wheatsheaf pub on St. Helen's street, and peek behind it, you'll see something interesting......

There, up above the dumpsters ( of course they are "skips" in UK ).

Lets take a closer look.....

So what's going on here?  It's a statue, definitely Roman style.  It is probably Abundantia, the goddess of plenty.  Note the Cornucopia.  Whether it is an original, in pretty nice shape, or a very well executed fake, is impossible to tell from this vantage point.  It certainly fits the niche quite nicely, and said niche is not a new addition.  And as we are quite a distance from the Roman fort and community, this gal has certainly traveled at some point.

You may note that the head looks a bit wrong; just a bit too small.  This is actually a point in favor of authenticity as Roman statues were often designed to have changeable heads.  One suspects this was especially useful for depictions of some of the dodgier, short reign Emperors....

As to the building, down the way and over the trash cans (sorry, bins) we see this:

1695.  So this is a pretty old building.  I found one reference to it being a dairy but presumably this was a recent use.  I suppose since we are questioning everything this stone could also be a later addition, but it looks right.

Near our mystery goddess, and being pointed out by a known goddess, we see these guys...

Also Roman, albeit in a sort of crude Celtic style that you encounter up on the frontier.  See also these swell "heads" found over at Carlisle last year.....

So what to make of the Roman statues behind The Wheat Sheaf pub?  I think they are legit.  Oh, as you go here and there you'll run across all manner of antiquities that were scooped up by travelers on The Grand Tour and installed in their manors back home.  But even if you can mentally edit out the trash cans and rewind a few centuries of history, this was not the swank abode of some aristocrat.  

Given the presence of nearby Roman stuff I'd rate it as highly probable that the people who lived here just went over and nicked a few items.  Perhaps at the time of the initial 1695 build or at a later refurb.  It's not easy to tell a 200 year old niche from a 300 year old one.  The two faced corner stone in particular looks out of place and my money is on it being a later addition.

Home with the Turkeys

Back home.

It's a long journey.  We woke up at 6am back in Northern England.  A fellow excavator gave us a ride to the Newcastle airport for a flight leaving at 9:30. 

Newcastle has a weird airport....you have to get there early as with any international flight.  But after clearing security you wait in a large, heavily commercial hall until 20 or 30 minutes before your departure time.  I guess they want you to buy all kinds of duty free swag.  The smell of high priced perfume is pervasive.  But its sort of fun.  There are always Stag Parties and Bachelorette Parties heading off to various destinations.  Elaborate and often embarrassing costumes are often involved.

One hour flight to Amsterdam.  With a tight connection on the other side it was nice that they read out the gate connections for you before landing.

We walked straight from the Newcastle flight to the Minneapolis one which was already boarding.  International transport is really quite remarkable.

I spent the 8 hour flight watching movies.  I had not previously seen Barbie, which I mostly enjoyed as unserious satire.  

Short walk to the shuttle which took us to the larger town near us, then a short drive home.  

6am to 6pm, although of course we were flying west and crossed five or six time zones.

When we got home there were wild turkeys walking around on our front lawn.  Having never seen such critters in town before I did consider the possibility I was hallucinating.  But the photographic evidence suggests otherwise.

A few days of catching up are in order.  I'll have additional thoughts on travels and digging over the next couple of weeks.

An Annual Tradition

 For reasons hardly worth trying to explain our little band of recurring excavators takes a "70's Album Cover" photo every year.  Here's this year's offering from the Old as Dirt Tour.

One of these years I'll get around to doing a complete back story to The Anaerobes, perhaps even a "Spinal Tap" sort of mockumentary film would be in order.....

Little Rhody

An odd progression of seasons in 2024.  Usually spring arrives right about when I'm heading overseas on the annual archaeology jaunt.  The most dramatic consequence of this is that for the past fifteen years (other than the ##%%## Covid Times) I've missed our rhododendron bush in its roughly 72 hours of floral glory.  But this year:

Pretty impressive sight in late April.

In discussing the matter it came to light that I was confused regards the name.  I was pretty sure that it had to do with the Greek letter Rho.  Or....wasn't Cecil Rhodes - 19th century adventurer/scoundrel - associated with something wholesome?  

Actually, Rhododendron means "rose tree", which is a fair description.  I'm calling this one little because we've seen examples down in Cornwall that were nearly 100 feet tall.  Little Rhody is also of course a nick name for Rhode Island.  

Now, there is also a Greek island called Rhodes.  Once the location of the famous Colossus. And where did it get its name?  Some try to link it with the Greek rhodon which does mean rose.  After all roses still grow on Rhodes.  But actually, as with many Greek things there was a randy Greek god and a nymph involved, the latter named Rhode.  Guess it mostly worked out as she and Helios stayed together long enough to have her bear him seven sons.

I went looking for pictures of the large Rhodys we saw back in 2014 but instead came across this example that put ours to shame....

Oh, and Cecil Rhodes.  Tried to atone for his sundry misdeeds by establishing the Rhodes Scholar program.  Something that has been enjoyed by many future political animals and as such thus far hands off for those who would like to cancel the past.  

Fishing - VERY Old School

When I was over in England last month one of my digging cronies gave me a couple of peculiar ceramic items he had picked up off a beach.  I guess they are common, he said he has about 600 of them.

These were found on the West Coast somewhere around Maryport.  Archaeological stuff from all eras turns up on those shores and if you work with the local authorities with regards to the remarkable things its quite legal to pick them up.

I did find some uncertainty out there on the internet.  THIS expressed uncertainty not only as to the age of the artifacts but their intended use.  In fact it mentions that some things that look like this are not artifacts at all but soft stones that have been burrowed into by mollusks!

But for several reasons I'm calling these fishing weights.  They have turned up on shorelines in large enough numbers that alternate explanations such as loom weights are implausible.  And in at least one report a series of them were found perfectly spaced out.....just as you'd expect if they came off a weighted fishing net.

Age is hard to judge.  A few of these things have initials or a cross on them.  Certainly not Roman.  Medieval is possible, but cheap low tech technology often survived well into the modern era.

Just for fun I might try using one as a sinker and see if I can catch a 21st century fish with one of these!

A Leeky Future

One of the odd things about my UK home away from home - The Bowes Hotel - is that it sponsors an annual Giant Leek contest.  We're talking some Big Veg here:

I've known about this for a while, but only recently bothered to look up information on it.  Here, have a quick read: BOWES CONTEST

I was very excited to see that among the trophies awarded was The Wooden Leek for most improved leeks.  Why I just happen to have a picture of it:

I want it.  Or more specifically, as it seems to be a stay in one place award, I want my name on it.

I'm not much of a gardener.  My attempt to grow Giant Pumpkins resulted in one or two slightly larger than average ones.  When I planted a pound of barley to try and have a total home grown home brew I got.....a little more than a pound of crop.  Peppers, carrots, onions, my list of horticultural flops is extensive.  But I'm gonna grow me some giant leeks.

Here's a big cluster of leek sprouts.  Today I teased them apart and planted about 25 individual units in our community garden plot.  I have expectations....

Actually I expect the little blighters will all perish, then next year I can try again and if I get one anemic little pale green leek to survive until fall of 2024 then the Wooden Leek will be mine.  MINE I SAY!

Playing the long game.

Digging at Vindolanda - My Semi Imaginary Friends!

I've been back from Vindolanda for almost two weeks now.  So it's Real World for me.  Or is it?  I've been spending lots of time with my precocious four year old grand daughter.  And her Pretend Friends.  Having Imaginary Friends is common for kids this age.  Perhaps more so in little people whose early years were spent in Covid isolation.  But ye gads 'n kitty kats she has a varied bunch of them.  Carson and the Alissas (she shows up in several different ages) are the most common.  My favorites are Loud Tina, her mother Geena and her baby sister Screama.  They are characterized by being, well, very loud although I can't say that I hear them at all.  I've tried to claim that I also see a rather gothic teen aged sister named Extrema but grand daughter ain't buyin' it.

At my old but not yet senile age I don't actually have Imaginary Friends as such, but my digging friends are sort of the same thing.  Fascinating people who only materialize in corporeal form for a couple of weeks a year.  Here's some photos.  No explanations.  In some cases I don't have one.

 

Mr. Whippy

It was a hotter than expected day and the little four mile stroll we had set out on somehow morphed into an eight mile trudge.  So it was with considerable delight that our little band came across, of all things, an Ice Cream truck in a little village we were passing through.  Welcome to the world of Mr. Whippy, a British institution.

Mr. Whippy is an international story.  Apparently a Brit of Italian ancestory discovered Mr. Softee ice cream trucks in the US.  Unsuccessful in getting franchise rights he just started his own brand in the UK in 1958.  Mr. Whippy later spread throughout the Anglosphere with Australia and New Zealand seeming to be especially successful ventures.  

The people I dig with in May are mostly British and mostly my vintage so for them the gentle song of the Mr. Whippy truck and the sticky sweet taste of the soft serve cones are fond childhood memories.  The darn stuff btw invariably sticks to your upper lip!

Alas, after a bit of a post Covid boom Mr. Whippy is in trouble.  The costs of both food and especially fuel are rising in the UK and ice cream trucks are a vanishing breed.  I'm glad I caught up with one while I could.

Sometimes I put up a post with the expectation that people will want to do more research.  In this instance I must in good conscience advise against googling "Mr. Whippy".  But there are so many questions.  For instance is the facebook page of an Ethiopian Mr. Whippy genuine or an elaborate joke?  And how do they get away with these strange Disney character images?  They have pupils in various states of dilation and constriction that make it look as if they are all on drugs.

Farewell Mr. Whippy.  There might be hope for diesel cost per liter coming down but those Disney lawyers will eventually hunt you down and destroy you.

Signs of the Times - England 2023

Things seen in Northern England, Spring 2023.

At the grocery store.  Just Lard, no apologies.  I like the halo which with the lighting from above makes a nice image.

What is Fly Tipping?  A tip is a dump in the UK so I guess this means no dumping trash and running away?  This is a used clothes drop off.

Large White Baps.  The primary meaning is some sort of bread roll or bun.  But my UK friends smile a bit when I use the word as it can also be a slangy term for breasts. 

Only at an archaeology site would you find a container labeled like this!  The site museum  actually has quite a few cattle skulls as they frequently come up during excavations.  Some are full of holes after being used for target practice.

Lambsies, Cute, Weird and Less Cute

May in northern England is a great time to see cute lambs.  These two are giving me skunk eyes as we were walking to a nearby pub that had lamb on the menu.

Not mutant lambs.  I did a double take walking to the site one morning.  Baby alpacas!

It's never a good day unless you learn something.  Even if it is something a bit gross.
 

Sheep scab.  Sounds icky.  It's actually the sheep version of scabies!  Man, if you get that itchy crud and have a full coat of wool it won't be fun.  Fortunately it can't spread to humans.  That boot image had me worried.  I do walk through quite a few pastures when over there....