(no subject)

The weather was inclement today.  Bitterly cold, with sleet and snow at times.  It was so cold, in fact, that we could only manage 1 hour 40 minutes outside at a time.

But in all other respects, the day was quite magical, filled with the ghostly echoes of Horses Long Gone.  We were, in case you hadn't guessed, surveying an old stables which was absorbed into the munitions factory and kept on, perhaps as storage facilities.

It was one of these chaotic buildings that's been very mucked about and which is very difficult to interpret as a result.  It appears to have been a barn, and it may have been built as far back as the early 19th or even late 18th century.  It fell into disrepair, then was substantially rebuilt in the 19th century.  These modifications seem to have taken place before the building was converted into a stables in the early 20th century (c. 1903, to be precise).

As for the stables...  They were eerily well-preserved.  There were six stalls in total, all with ceramic mangers and hayracks present.  There were wisps of hay in some of the hayracks.  And, most poignant of all...  In one of the stalls, the window had been blocked by several planks of wood in order to stop the inmate bashing its head against the glass panes.  The horse in question was a crib-biter: the timber of the hayrack had a metal strip attached to stop the horse chewing the wood, so it had chewed one of the planks instead.  And on closer inspection, I noticed that the tethering ring must have broken or come away.  It was replaced by the broken remains of a jointed loose-ring snaffle bit, which had been stapled to the hayrack in a Heath Robinson attempt at a repair.

It brought home to me how important it is for an archaeologist not to be an expert at history, but to be an eclectic individual who dabbles in all sorts of things.  If I hadn't had accumulated such a wealth of experience with horses, I'd have missed all these little details that completely brought the place to life.

And then, as we drove back to site after lunch, what should come on the radio but America's atmospheric song A Horse With No Name.  Appropriate, or what??

A marvellous day, and one that makes all the bitter weather and unpleasant working conditions worthwhile.

(no subject)

The weather was inclement today.  Bitterly cold, with sleet and snow at times.  It was so cold, in fact, that we could only manage 1 hour 40 minutes outside at a time.

But in all other respects, the day was quite magical, filled with the ghostly echoes of Horses Long Gone.  We were, in case you hadn't guessed, surveying an old stables which was absorbed into the munitions factory and kept on, perhaps as storage facilities.

It was one of these chaotic buildings that's been very mucked about and which is very difficult to interpret as a result.  It appears to have been a barn, and it may have been built as far back as the early 19th or even late 18th century.  It fell into disrepair, then was substantially rebuilt in the 19th century.  These modifications seem to have taken place before the building was converted into a stables in the early 20th century (c. 1903, to be precise).

As for the stables...  They were eerily well-preserved.  There were six stalls in total, all with ceramic mangers and hayracks present.  There were wisps of hay in some of the hayracks.  And, most poignant of all...  In one of the stalls, the window had been blocked by several planks of wood in order to stop the inmate bashing its head against the glass panes.  The horse in question was a crib-biter: the timber of the hayrack had a metal strip attached to stop the horse chewing the wood, so it had chewed one of the planks instead.  And on closer inspection, I noticed that the tethering ring must have broken or come away.  It was replaced by the broken remains of a jointed loose-ring snaffle bit, which had been stapled to the hayrack in a Heath Robinson attempt at a repair.

It brought home to me how important it is for an archaeologist not to be an expert at history, but to be an eclectic individual who dabbles in all sorts of things.  If I hadn't had accumulated such a wealth of experience with horses, I'd have missed all these little details that completely brought the place to life.

And then, as we drove back to site after lunch, what should come on the radio but America's atmospheric song A Horse With No Name.  Appropriate, or what??

A marvellous day, and one that makes all the bitter weather and unpleasant working conditions worthwhile.