Not the Discovery Channel

What we really know about the past

Back to it. Seriously. For real this time. No foolin’

I find myself, sitting in a coffee shop in Burnaby, on the cusp of returning to a life of archaeology. Yup, someone has hired me to dig stuff up.

Back to being a ‘professional archaeologist’- as such. I’m sort of looking forward to it. It means I get to practise what I preach and try to deal with the difficulties of interpreting the past from the junk we leave behind.

I won’t be writing much about the actual excavation I’m working on, since it’s a rather large and complicated project and may (or may not) receive media attention. It’s also not my project; well…. not really…. I’m sure I’ll become emotionally attached to it and develop that love/hate relationship that comes with working full bore on an excavation. But I’m not in charge, it’s not my research, and I don’t feel comfortable sharing the day-to-day operations of an excavation.

What I will do is talk about life on the dig site, if I feel like I can share it responsibly. You won’t hear me talk about finding artifacts or bones, but I may talk about the problems with wet screening. Or working with heavy machinery. But only if its funny or interesting. Hopefully both.

In between, I have like 485454234 unfinished drafts sitting in the aether of the cyber-tubes. So I’m back from my summer hiatus. Ready to start digging and writing.

EDIT- I just realized that this post is probably neither interesting or funny. I guess I just needed to write some sort of promise to myself. So as a kind of apology- here is a picture of a dog with a giant bone. I found it funny.

listen, it's funny if you're an oestologist. Or zooarchaeologist. Or a geek.

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