In order that you, dear reader, may share a little in my triumphs and ...the other things, what is it that isn't a triumph? Honda? That'll do, ... that you may share in my hondas, I thought you may appreciate a tiny little crash course in the course that I am currently crashing.
This is a study of old things. Like looking at my face in the mirror, only bigger. This assumes that you know already that I don't have a huge face or anything.
Or maybe I do.
Anyway. This may be undertaken in many ways;
a) Looking. This is not hard, and involves close investigation of things. If the things you are investigating closely get up and walk away, then they are not old enough to be called archaeology and may, in fact, be the dog.
b) Seeing. This is like looking, only more generalised. Used for landscape. And portraits.
c) Thermoluminescence. This is shining a light on things to see how old they are. Incidentally, it works on my face too.
d) Digging. So far I have found some very interesting tools which turned out not to be flint tools made by neolithic man but which were, in fact, a hammer and screwdriver which someone buried in the garden about ten years ago and yes, kids, I AM looking at you.
I am faced with interesting conundrums such as 'Lindow Man - who was he and how did he die?' All I can say is - I wasn't there, honest, I've got witnesses and everything. And conservation of very old things - apparently even very good moisturiser isn't enough if the things are really old, which doesn't bode very well for the future of my face.
It's all very interesting, and enables me to sit for a long time, sucking the end of my highlighter pen and going "hmmm" in a knowledgeable way, which is only spoiled by the enormous amounts of pink dribble which I then generate because the pen was facing the wrong way. It is entirely fraudulent because, as all of you who have so kindly followed my blog, mostly in a baffled and confused way, will know, I have the brainpower of a small, confused and elderly rodent. I get to scribble all over books in a way unprecedented in someone who isn't three years old, mutter about 'The Harris Matrix' and draw willies all over the skeletons. Well, not all over, only in the relevant places. And I'm not sure this is part of my studies, but they gave me a pen and a picture of a skeleton and... what the hell did they expect?
Right. I'm off now. I have to look as if I understand the difference between Carbon 14 and Carbon 12. They're both just pencils, aren't they?
I studied this for a while. Then it got up and went away.
Oh, and it's all right. In a spirit of equality I'm going to draw boobs on the other skeleton.
Book Review: Miss Treadway & the Field of Stars by Miranda Emmerson - Snow falling on a lamplit London bus on the eye-catching book jacket together with the intriguing title of Miranda Emmerson’s debut novel proved impossible...
1 week ago