I wanna take you to an Open Day!

I believe I can write a few thousand words on the open days at Plas Brynkir and it still won't be anywhere near a conclusive description of the rush. The 14th of August was THE Open Day- when all members of the public, interested in the project, would come and want a guided tour of the site and finds. The day started off early with Mark's instruction as to how we would proceed during the tours. The unfinished work from the day before was still waiting for us on the drawing table and as we were working the first eager visitors came at about 10.20- 40 minutes before the official start of the Open Day. The weather was still indecisive as to how to behave and we were all feeling the growing realization that this was the last day. If I recall correctly Rosie started the first tour, while Alex, Stephen, Kate and I were finishing the remaining work. After the first tour was begun the day took on its own pace. More and more people were coming and only by faith's sudden whim I was at the front door of the hostel as a special guest walked in and Mark wanted me to give a private tour of the site. At about the same time Alex was giving a 2-hour long tour of the site to Michael Tree( Gosh, I do hope I am misspelling this name!). At the end of the official part of this day a sufficient part of us were gathered at the bbq spot at the back of the hostel- enjoying the warm caress of the sun and comforting company of people who had seen your worst- well, my worst in all cases. We finished the day together with Mark, Adam and Linda at a restaurant in the house where the last member of the Brynkir family had died. It was a fun evening indeed. But enough with the sloppy, tedious storied of our days. I want to get serious now! And what is being serious anyway... Spending what was almost a month with this group of people wasn't amazing, it wasn't surreal, it probably won't be a once in a life time experience. It was what happens when a weirdo, such as myself, finds a place to fit in. Arguing, sharing, getting to know others in a way reserved for just a few is a privilege that demands appreciation. We didn't only fell in love with the hostel and the site; we fell in love with being there, touching the stones and unraveling a forgotten story. And I believe whoever goes back there next year will feel the same, time and time again. White hats, yellow hats, and no hats at all we laid out the pathway for the coming years of the project and hopefully Mark won't forget the devotion we showed to Brynkir's story any time soon. Mainly because no one likes being forgotten. And Mark... Oh, that wonderful person! As I look back on that month with him as a project director I see that most of all he taught us how to be ourselves more than anything else. Goodbye, Brynkir, my first archaeological love!

It ain't over til' it's over

Monday the 13th of August was a very gloomy day! What was probably the best thing about the whole day was the spa treatment Kate and I indulged ourselves in the night before. All the team had to finish whatever they were working on and the stressful mood of work-loving students was filling the air with that iron taste of impending failure. And in that atmosphere of rushing, while Stephen and his team were doing final measurements; Kate was working on the final ground-plan of the Lower House with Alex and other people were doing important things, I am sure, I started doing a mega-schematic drawing of a 11-meter long, 6-meter high external elevation. Not fascinating at all but a very time-consuming endeavor indeed. This was our very last working day at BK12 and for the time here we did establish a fairly easy and enjoyable working environment. With every minute closer to the end of our working hours I could feel the insistent waterworks getting ready to poor out my eyes. How can a cry-baby change? It can't. So 22-year-old or not I knew I will be too emotional over the end of the dig. I almost forgot to tell you about the site-walk the whole team took before lunch that day- we all went together to the Lower House and talked about what we found about each and every room during our surveying. And as we were walking around, making jokes and actual, important remarks about the chronology of the building, I could see how we had become a family, albeit a very dysfunctional one indeed. Needless to say I didn't cope with finishing that big-ass drawing that I had started and I do believe the ground-plan needed more work- but that was Kate, Stephen and Alex working on it so I trusted they would cope. So there you have it, the second-to-last day of Plas Brynkir:Building Investigation and Recording was over. And I'm still nowhere as cheesy as I am going to be when talking about the last one.

Get out of the Training room if you can't stand the heat

Only 2 days before our coveted day off the Three Diggatiers were working indoors. Wait...we were bound to stay in there until all the paper work for the structures we surveyed was finished. That is exactly why Friday as well as Saturday were my team's days inside- in the training room. I tell you this, dear interested in the Brynkir project people, respectfully all the people involved in it who are reading this as a reminder what happened - with only 5 days left for us to spend here the end seems to be coming closer and it stressfully enough feels like the end of an era. Luckily I get to share all my worries with fellow white hats- Kate and Stephen. We have come to the conclusion that this experience was so "when I come up with a word for it I will tell you" that we all feel like there is now nothing beyond the reach of the Brynkir estate. Every breath here is both precious and unwanted. If Fraiday went by quickly and reasonably easy, Saturday was an Open day at Plas Brynkir and my intial group was to be evaluated on the tour we were giving around the site. Long story short when the Open day was over and the crowds of cute elderly people interested in history was gone we continued with the work. I can't imagine the evenings at Brynkir without the company of Kate and Stewie(Stephen, people-keep up with the story)- sometimes I like to think of us three as The Diggatiers, because we shared so much during this experience. And the weirdest part of it all is the fact that sharing the stories of BK12, regardless of how passionately I look to share them here, are hard to understand if you weren't there to see it all. Only 3 days to go. Only 3 more stories to share. Hope you are ready for the waterfalls!

Draw me pretty!

The 9th of August! Room number 4 at the Lower House for my team- Kathy & Co as Mark sometimes refers to us. To be completely honest, by this point of the week I feel so tired and ready to give up on my fruitless efforts to be helpful that the morning seemed as crappy to me as no day before that. We had to survey the Drawing Room at the Lower House- a beautiful structure with a bay window on its N/E elevation. And the Drawing Room did indeed grow on me. Alex was already so excited about going along with our work that his enthusiasm sweeped me in an imaginary stream of obliviousness to fatigue. After we measured the walls and I did my on-site sketches for the schematic drawings of the internal elevations, we headed back to the Training room at the hostel were we had more work to finish from previous days. At this point of the day I am going to stop my narrative and let you in on some secrets about the life at a four week dig. You win some new friends, you may somehow lose a closer look in your older friends' lives or you may utterly and totally cut the ties with some. However, no matter what happens the agenda should always be clear that here everything comes second to work. And if you live with people you thought of as close friends you start to discover more than ever exactly how much we all are imperfect. One thing a first-year absolutely needs to learn is that archaeology, especially field work, is never just digging. It is the necessity to mobilize yourself and to be able to work with whatever and whoever you have to. It seems almost bizarre to me that I am wasting time and space with all these pseudo-profound insights. Maybe archaeologists should just stick to their own filed of expertize and leave the complexity of reality to itself. Then again, why would I be writing this blog? It all comes down to the fact that neither one of us gives up easily.

Tell me where North is!

The most frustrating part of surveying a standing structure, such as the Lower House at Brynkir, is that instead of learning more by looking at it, I sometimes feel like I know less and less with every day. It feels like I'm playing pictionary with an alien and we have no common ground. Luckily I have Alex, my Number 2,(patronizing Kathy strikes) to always remind me that we are here not to be frustrated but to try and build up a logical picture of the chronology of the house in our minds. I figure if there was ever a conscious moment at which I started looking at the project as not just a university task but as a personal interest, that was the 8th of August. My team and I were working in the library room and it was the measuring of elevations of the internal walls-time, when I slowly grew aware of my internal ambition to try and make sense of the stones that were standing around me. The only trouble was, it is hard to describe simply where North is, when doing a schematic drawing- if you are using the archaeological way that is. Seems like archaeology itself has come such a long way it is impossible for the discipline to be self-explanatory. It was a godsend when Mark took the director's decision to use the architectural way of describing inner and outer elevations. All we need to know now is just where North is! As we come closer to the end of the dig I can feel how the days start rolling faster and I don't really want them to anymore. I want to stay longer and listen to the stones so maybe they can tell me the secrets of this house. Does that make me crazy?

All the flowers of all the tomorrows...

The 7th of August is a day some of the readers here might have heard of. That was the day of my birth and the team at Plas Brynkir helped make the day special, exciting and full of surprises for me. During the day, however, my team and I had continue our work on the surveying of the Lower House at the Brynkir estate. Our mission for the day- the supposed staircase hall/morning room had to be recorded by the known procedure. Only trouble was there are barely any still-standing elevations in that room. However, as the dream team we are, Alex, Warren and I succeeded. It didn't quite help the occasion that we had no solid ground to step on but were instead treading on huge piles of demolition rubble, but we are not complaining. It was quite interesting for us to continue diving in deeper into the sealed secrets of the Brynkir houses. The day ended around 6pm but on that day I had promised myself- no after-hours work. The evening promised to be even more endearing than the day. As I was getting ready to go out to The Goat- a cute pub nearby the hostel- I looked through the cards I was given over and over again. A crazy party cat was stalking me from one side, demanding from me to have a good time- with the names of all my fellow students on it. Linda, our lovely host during our stay at the hostel, surprised me with a card too. And then it was Mark and Adam that utterly flattered me with making this a noteworthy occasion: "Such fun!"- in the words on Mark himself. Let me not forget David, our guest specialist at the dig, who is going to create 3D images of the Brynkir houses- and his Cylon card. Proved you can never go wrong when you go sci-fi. Although the evening of nice food, drink and company at the pub was pleasurable, the highlight of the whole day was our little star-gazing adventure. Stephen and Kate came up with the idea to go up one of the hills nearby and watch the meteorite shower. I, of course, instead of putting decent shoes was still in my indoors slippers...Not at all surprising really. yo

And let me tell you something truthful and honest: There is no better end to a birthday than seeing a shooting star and making sure you have enough strength to fight for what you want.

Welcome to the bog!

On the 6th of August my new team of fellow diggatiers went not only down to the Lower House, we were sent to survey an outer-building, that had a 20 cm bog instead of a floor. One would imagine how can be an obstacle in the way a survey-hungry archaeologist. We made it somehow, with a lot of mud and even more swearing on my account. It is not easy to have a white hardhat at BK12(the dig site code). Wining about the necessities of life aside it was a pretty good day, except for the bog of course. For all of those unenlightened in the procedure of surveying a building I will now explain it, for those of you that are-just bear with me. First thing we do when we go to the allocated to our team room, structure or building is to asses the risks lurking from behind the wonky old constructions. We do some clearing if necessary, highly needed or even possible. Afterwards every wall possible has been brought into a presentable sight we do a running measurement of the walls- clockwise for interior, anti-clockwise for exteriors. That is where Alex is the master-creating a ground plan of the structures we survey. The camera and tripod are always down on site so photos are in order- more work with the spirit level and we have an even fuller record of the site. What follows that is my job and that is to first sketch the walls- the way rocks were stuck together into a structure, whether or not they are worked, the complexion and presence of mortar and so on. When our work on site is done we go back to the Training room and then I turn my sketches of every elevation into a scaled schematic drawing. The whole process is not all that glamorous and fabulous, however I find it fulfilling and rewarding to stand in the Brynkir house and take care it won't be forgotten. We are all good.

A story of how things in life come in their right places

Saturday is a hard day for serious work. However, we all gathered all of our strength left before the day off and finalized, as much as possible the work at the Upper House at Plas Brynkir. I, myself, was finishing the section drawings and grid plans of my own trench and helped others with whatever I was useful with. All in all it wasn't that big of a day when it comes to events. Well, maybe except for the fact that our groups of 3 were changed and I was now in a group with Alex and Warren and most of all: I now had the white hat! Promotion time! Now... I have a few very important things to say so make sure you read with both eyes! I am going to skip telling you about our day off activities and will take a slight curve on my established behavior-pattern in this blog. Today, as I am writing this, is the 7th of August, namely - my birthday! I am not writing this to make a big deal out of it, my intentions are far from that. The reason I am telling you this is because I do seek to share my happiness. Since I was very young I knew I wanted to be an archaeologist. I know everybody says that but it is very true. And all the time after I had made that decision my life was filled with people trying to tell me I shouldn't become one. I even went to a uni in Bulgaria, studying something quite different. But I hoped nothing could keep me away from archaeology. And here I am today, having the best present I could ever imagine- and I gave it to myself. I owe so much to Mark Baker for being here, for I have learned more than I have ever hoped for and he will excuse my cheesiness because today is my birthday. Truth is today is not about celebrating, it's about having another day as an archaeology student and being continuously happy that I had the guts to go away from everything I knew to find everything I wanted!

Is geology a real science?

One thing I most certainly am not going to do on this blog is sugarcoat things. Don't blame me, blame my idealist parents and their not-so-therapeutic view on reality. Thing is, when on the 2nd of August the two geologist from the National Museum of Wales came, no one was anywhere even closely prepared for a whole day of rock-hunting. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. However, deciding whether a boulder is formed by glacial movements or with tools is not my idea of fun. My personal opinion aside, it was very helpful to have such good specialists on site. Especially with a project like the one we are working on, it is vital to understand how the rocks, forming the still-standing walls of the Brynkir houses came to form a part of the structures. I would love to have a long, interesting story of the way in which my eyes were now opened for the countless possibilities geology provides. In the morning we had an introductory lecture on what geology is and we had the chance to look at different stone samples through a microscope. We went up to the Tower, went in the walled gardens on the Brynkir estate and discussed the Upper and Lower Houses as much as a stone by stone approach was possible. So who am I to say if geology is a science or not. You might say it would be clever to stay on good terms with geologists, because of it's importance to archaeology and so on. I have no objections to that. But excuse me if I prefer digging up trenches...

Stephen, Pete and Mark at the Union Inn on the 31th of July, our night out to celebrate Rosie's birhtday!

Jenna and Mark recording what could as well be the most interesting trench on the site

Lily with her group on the second open day in the Training room, looking at the 1899 sales catalog

The birthday-girl with her cake( on the 31st of July)

Pete:Sat in his corner doing whatevr needs to be done!

I am saying bye to Bob...

...while Kate and Lily are tending to his last needs

Kate, supervising me on the cleaning of the staircase tower

The one with the official visits

Get up! Get up! Get up! I keep shouting in my head while all the others are still sleeping in their beds. I always wake up early in Cwm Pennant. Partially because I enjoy drinking my coffee in piece but mainly because I have to write this very blog and the morning is my only time of the day I am completely unable to be winy or bitchy, or so I think. The 2nd of August was a day reserved for the official visit of Harry Huddard- a direct descendant of the Huddard family, who used to own the Brynkir estate in the 19th century. It's a big fuss in the training room- tidying up, tidying ourselves up and receiving our daily tasks from Mark. I had to plan the probable staircase structure Kate and I had been surveying earlier. Jenna kept digging up her trench and reaching new layers in the stratigraphy of the interior of the Upper House. Alex and Stephen, by now skilled in hand surveying and planning, had to begin transferring skills to other people from the group. Lily was made chief of photography- and had to go around with Mark and our guest, making sure this event won't be forgotten. After the first article on the Plas Brinkir prject in a Welsh Newspaper a few people came to the hostel, seeking to share memories of forebears who lived and worked in the estate. And while everything is happening so fast, people are coming and going, I was sat in the Training room and kept on planning and recording everything I have done so far. Not so glamorous, is it. But you are wrong! The day became even more glamorous when in the early afternoon, just after Harry Huddard left, Elizabeth Williams-Ellis and Michael Tree came. As far as I am concerned these names didn't mean a thing to me when I first came here. And there I was, being on my best behavior. The whole group had a talk by Michael Tree before dinner, which turned out to be not so brief. However we did get a new perspective on how and why old country houses end up in the condition, in which the Upper and Lower Houses are. Sometimes I feel like time stops around here and the days are 72 hours long. But I don't really mind the long days because at the end of the day I count every minute as meaningful.

That awful day Pete left!

It was only 15 minutes after we started work on the 1st of August that the light drizzle became consistent rain. Although I tired to stay on the bright side and just accept the fact as a necessity of archaeological life, I couldn't help but read a secret meaning into this change of weather. Somehow I had the feeling that every person in the project was in a horrific mood. Partially I was in a bad mood as well but just because after a certain point here you change your moods just to get things going. Kate and I had to finish our survey of what is supposed to be a staircase tower in the Upper House. Lily was busy recording her trench. Jenna was still giving all her attention to her trench, Clive. Alex and Stephen were continuing the strenuous task of finishing the survey of the Upper House. We were expecting some rather exciting guests that day- people from the Royal Commission. And so they came, soon after lunch and in the light drizzle. We were separated into 2 groups and were to have both a practical lesson in how to use a fancy total station and a informative talk on archaeological and architectural photography. Our group was the first to get down to the Lower Building and start recording the features of the multistoreyed building. Learning new practical skills, I always find, is rather exciting, it brings a new meaning to the whole dig experience. But perhaps the most fascinating side of meeting all these people that come here, to this secluded point in North Wales, to teach us something is the chance to put faces to the information that archaeologists find so valuable. I imagine next time I'll be sat in the Arts and Social Studies Library I will read an article on archaeological photography and then I will know that it's people writing those. Sounds silly, doesn't it. Sadly our day came to an end and what an end it was... Pete was in a rush to catch his train and came down to the Lower House to have his goodbyes with us. As foolish as it may sound I felt like everything would change after Pete leaves. An era at BK12(our site code) was over. However we made a promise to our adoptive dad Pete that is, that we will stalk him in Cardiff forever and ever.

A day of our lives

Practically every day is a day of our existence. Sometimes, however, some things happen and times starts going quickly and you feel yourself almost helpless as to how to keep up. The morning of the 31st of Jul was one of my least favorite as what seemed inevitable happened and I got in an unpleasant argument with one of the project members. It is quite silly to try and explain who said what and why we started speaking awful things to each other in the first place, the result was a gloomy start to what was supposed to be a positive day. At about 10.30 our first visitor for the day came into the Training room. It was a woman, whose surname I sadly did not remember and I hope you all accept my sincerest apologies. This woman, named Margaret, held a lecture on the topic of a project in which she is a key-player: Dating Old Welsh Houses! The lecture was mostly about the merits of dendrochronology for the successful creation of a Master Chronology for old house mostly throughout North-west Wales. Right after the lecture a team of about 20 people came to the site, all participants in the Old Welsh Houses project. They were separated in 3 groups and that is where our smiley faces went in action and we started our tours around the site. It was Jenna's turn to show Team C's group the Lower House. Unluckily this was a rainy day and not one of the most pleasant experiences for our guests. After the tour was finished, tea and coffee were served and feedback sheets were filled we founds ourselves alone and happy in the Training room. Did I really forget to mention this was also Rosie's birthday. After the official part of the day was over we gathered together for the blowing of candles and a bit of cake and tea. After only 2 weeks the dynamic of the whole group is so different as to what it was in the beginning that all of us being in the Training room now has a new meaning. After cake Heather, our PhD supervisor gave us a talk on pottery, which got me thinking of how much more there is out there for me to be interested in. This was pretty much the end of our day. Well, not exactly because in the evening we went to a pub in Tremadog to celebrate Rosie's birthday. But that is a story we would rather keep to ourselves.

Pride and Supervision

30th of July! Not a big day, not a small one. Bob was already dead in my mind and I couldn't help but feel the disappointment after all my crazy strive to dig him disappeared. I guess that is just one of those things with which you just have to learn living with. This was the day when I was sent over to work with Kate, who just had received the white on-site supervisor hat. Needless to say I felt somehow ashamed, there I was - old enough to have graduated already and still being an unexperienced first year. Thoughts like this, however, I never let get in the way of my work. We were supposed to clean a square structure positioned opposite the doorway Lyly has been digging in the last week. Gardening! This day was somewhat of a turning point for me during this archaeological experience. All of a sudden I put myself in the position of a side-viewer and I saw this small, compact team of students, knowing what to do and doing what they have to in order for this project to move forward soundly. The highlight of the day didn't happen until we were all back in the training room, sorting out finds and filling in context sheets. Mark had asked me to write down on a board for the purpose the above-sea levels I had taken for 2 different trenches in the interior of the Upper House. 110.71! 110.72! One centimeter discrepancy and that meant that we were for certain surveying one and the same occupational layer of the site. In my mind what happened on the day after this one is much more interesting and meaningful but if you want to know about you'll just have to be a bit more patient.

The whole lot, and me behind the camera, ready to lift up a stone from Trench C(Nick and Rosie's)

Mark giving instruction as to how to proceed the work at Trench C, where the entrance to the cellar is.

Me at my last day of digging up Bob. He was a wild one.

Parts of Jenna and her whole pipe

Mark and Hannah looking around the interior of the Upper House- serious talk time!

Stephen SuperStar

That day I killed Bob!

First Tour around the project site day at Plas Brynkir! We're all up and down in the Training room at 9am, dressed up in our fancy Cardiff University Student Guide t-shirts and ready to show some people how much we know about the site, or how much we don't. Should we be nervous, chilled, anxious, or do we just want to keep on digging? There was really no time for such existential, profound questions. I should have learned how to improvise these stuff earlier in my life. Now I'm just an almost 22-year-old first year student an I start forgetting English just because I have 3 people following me around and expecting to be amazed. For me the funniest bit of the tour was the beginning itself when I started off smoothly with forgetting the word "bridge" in English. The other teams had their own group to lead around and I had to start the tour of my group with introducing the Lower House. Pieces of history of the site, pieces of my rotten English and a lot of awkward pauses, while looking at my notes. Thank the Goddess Pete came down from the hostel for reasons unknown to me. You remember Pete-our dig food-magician, favorite person to play NEVER HAVE I EVER WITH and my rival for the snacks in the vending machine. Off topic!!! It took me exactly 20 minutes to get my compact group of lovely archaeology involved people around the Lower House and up to the hostel. Jenna was the one taking our group to the Upper House which is also the actual dig site at the moment. She was treading in front of the hostel, waiting for the group to come out and completely forbid me to go with her. I don't really blame her- I do tend to overtake and I wouldn't want to be doing to a team-mate, even less to a friend. After the tour was officially over and we bid our farewells with the lovely elderly visitors we went back to digging and surveying in the afternoon. That, men and gentle-ladies was the exact time of Bob's death. About 25 to 2 pm I reckon... I had finished the rusty layer of soil the day before and I hit the next context and was ready to put lots of effort into troweling I realized everything beneath my hands was a compact surface. I should have been happy but this was perhaps the saddest day in my archaeological existence. After cautious cleaning, taking of photos and information for drawings Bob will be proclaimed officially dead. I am not ashamed to admit I did procrastinate, just a tiny bit. But we all know good things come to an end. Other things happened at the site as well. I would hate for the readers of this blog, as few as they may be, to be scandalized by my selfishness. Jenna reached a flagstone surface in her trench and cleared the place where a supposed window-seat is, the lovely Lily kept on expanding her main door trench and Kate was winning over the white hat(SUPERVISOR) by helping out Rosie and Nick in their monster trench. As for Stephen and Alex they did in fact leave us on the field, digging in sun and rain and began work with Mark on the drawing up of plans for the Upper House. It was another fine day at Plas Brynkir. And everyday does get better. We are a lucky bunch

Don't ask what your dumpy level can do for you, ask what you can do for your dumpy level!

Day 8 was one of those bizarre days, which seem to last forever, especially when your eyes are dangerously closing up every time you need them to be open. It was time for me to stop recording Bob for a bit and get on with troweling him. That necessity became even stronger when sometime after lunch Will, who was digging a trench in the exterior of the house, just like me, reached a cobbled surface. Bad thing it took him a bit too long to call Mark for supervision. Will started taking out the cobbles which Mark later believed were part of the original ground covering of the house. Unfortunate, but shit happens. To be honest the idea of finding a original level in my dear Bob motivated me even more and I was more keen than ever on getting the rusty-colored layer of the trench. But before anything else cold happen I had to get the dumpy level out, as I was know a proud owner of the knowledge ho to use it. Needless to say, after you have presumably read the title of this post, everything didn't quite go peachy with the dumpy level. As of that day I o have a love-hate relation with that specific piece of surveying equipment. The measurements themselves are not hard to read. However, the spirit level on it is a tricky bastard which I never could have conquered without the help of Kate. Later that day Jenna, who was by then completely consumed with her lovely trench, reached a wall on both ends of it, which could only mean proof for the window seat hypothesis of Mark and Hannah. By the end of day 8, amidst the singing, the occasional reminder of NEVER HAVE I EVER and the strive to get to end of the day, I indeed reached the end of the rusty context in my trench. I wish this could all sound more exciting to you, not just some dry facts from a damp trench. But then again I am not sure anyone can really know how we feel every day without getting their hands in the dirt. Life long and carry on troweling.

Day 7: I'm above the grid

The rust was everywhere. I looked down Bob and as my hands and knees were still feeling so soar I felt a bit reluctant to get back in him. The good thing with troweling is once you start you get so caught up in it that nothing else matters. The morning was quiet and empty of finds and somewhat full of the revelations from the previous night's NEVER HAVE I EVER. It was after lunch that the interesting matters started coming out. I remember quite clearly that I was sieving the soil from Bob, my trench, when Jenna went suspiciously quiet for a bit and then jumped right out of her trench, hiding something in her palms. As my usual bossy self I wanted to see and started jumping around Jenna, the dwarf that I am compared to her, to try and see. She was however relentless and wouldn't let anyone else but Mark see her find first. To be honest I have never before seen Jenna so excited and emotionally involved and with an object at that- but no shame on her. It was a complete pipe, made out of clay, with production marks and names on it, and with a gazed light-green finish to it. At that time it was my turn, honor and privilege to learn something new. I had to start properly recording my trench and a grid plan, or a bird's eye-view for the unenlightened, was the next agenda. As I am only an inexperienced first year I had Lily and Kate help me. Not only did they explain everything I needed to know in the best way, they also made me a blump-bob. This miracle of nature, and the swagger minds of the YOLO-team, was named Jason and he is now forever going to stay in the breast pocket of my blue waterproofs. While all this was happening at trench A- mine and Jenna's trenches combined, Nick and Rosie ( part of team B) found another wall in their monster of a trench and soon after bits of a huge metal object became visible in the soil covering the steps to the Upper House's cellar. All in all this was a good day, but when I get to think about it they all turn out to be good anyways

Days 5 and 6: There is something seriously wrong with loving a trench this much

Apologies for the sudden merging of day experience, however to me it all feels the same when I am around Bob. He is my little 1 by 1 meter window in the past and has facilitated views into the history of demolition at the Upper House of Brynkir. Bam! New context. Bam! Another one. I felt so overly concentrated on what may come out of the loose soil that everything else just faded. People somewhere keep killing each other, bad things keep happening to good and not so good people and there I was just troweling as if I was troweling for my own life. I wonder if this is not too pretentious, too much over the top for me - to feel so obsessed with a whole in the ground, made by me at that. Jenna was still sat right across the wall, which serves as one of Bob's sides. This experience keeps proving to be very healthy for her, as I can see the amazing progress she has accomplished from day 1. On the far corner of the exterior wall Will kept digging his trench and hit a very compact grayish layer which according to Mark could be late medieval. Day 5 was also the day when I learned how to use the dumpy level. Imagine my total amazement at the fact that I actually now know what to do with that peculiar thingy. I keep talking about archaeological procedures and on-field skills as if they are something magical and unearthly. Of course I know they are not. This is just me, realizing my total merging with a world I have previously felt unreachable. Even though the first year at Cardiff Uni has taught me so much, surely nothing can be compared to this: feeling the dirt in between your fingers, saving the worms from the vicious edge of the trowel and taking little pieces of someone's history out of the soil. Day 6 had a rather sad turn to it for that was the day after which Hannah left Plas Brynkir, Cwm Pennant and 9 Cardiff University students completely adoring her. Sometimes life and the schedule of an archaeological dig do rather surprise us. Towards the end of this day I finally reached a layer in my trench beyond demolition. The rusty color of the soil got me so excited that I was even eager to return to it al day during our day off. Now all that is left for me is to boldly go where no one has gone before.

Bob in the beginning

Me on day 4! Just before getting on with my trench

Stephen and me, working on Bob the lovely trench!

Jenna and Lily looking down at Bob: 22nd of July

Mark, project leader, supervising our first barbecue of the dig:the 21st of July

The celler inside the Upper House, where Rosie, Alex and Nick are digging at the moment

The 21st of July- Jenna and me, setting up the last pegs of the first base line, however wrong it was

Hannah, our PhD supervisor's home in the mountains and the view to the back of the hostel.

Bob affairs: Day 4 at Plas Brynkir

The sky was gray with clouds on the morning of the 23rd of July. Thank the gods for waterproofs. As I am sat here in the dining room of our temporary home, writing this shout out to archaeological enthusiasts , I do wonder how to exactly transfer on to whoever reads it the level of seriousness and fun we are having at the same time. It was my second day of working down at Bob, my trench at the west range of the Upper House. My trench guide and master into the dark corners of context sheets, Stephen, is like a high-pitch jukebox. Jenna, working at Clive the trench, opposite us, was partnering up with Lily, another second-year on site, and the cavalcade of musical choices for us to badly sing out is raining down on us like summer rain. By this point the third team of students, made out of my course mates was already transferred to work at the Upper House as well, so we were once again in the same place. Superhuman Will was digging up a trench with second-year and YOLO(for future reference: You Only Live Once) instructor Kate(eating fondue with the Biebester). I would like to believe there is more I can tell you but just in order to be myself I will conclude that you have to be here to experience the atmosphere. I myself do feel like a child in a candy store, although I doubt it in a candy store my knees would be hurting so badly. Okay, okay! I will leave the complaints for another life-time. And I just remembered to tell you to beware of bats. Not really! We had one on the 22nd and in the bedroom of the hostel. After nearly an hour of giggling in our beds, well into the early hours of the day, Alex, sleeping on the bunk bed next to mine said something about a bat. This was all somewhat creepy after Kate telling us about the bat nightmare she had the day before. Who would have known that archaeological excavations can unlock psychic abilities. Dig long and prosper my friends, for I will!

it

The crew taking a tea break before the last minutes of work for the day: 23rd of July

21nd of July Jenna at the Lower House, a.k.a our first pegs without supervision.

Me taking a bearing along the first peg of the base line along the line of sight between the Upper and Lower Houses

Getting down and dirty with Bob

The third and fourth day of the Diggatiers, however glorious on their own, had more or less the same concentration of work load and positioning on the site of the Brynkir project. On the morning of the 22nd of July Mark led us to the site of the Upper House, where we had to continue the clearing of overgrowth on the north-facing exterior wall on the west range of the structure. The exciting bit for me began when Mark asked me to clear a 1 meter section of the wall. My fine trowel with the proud name of Nebuchadnezzar finally came into action and out of my black rucksack. What followed the clearing of a layer of moss, covering the boulders of the wall, was Mark teaching me how to fill in more forms for the description of buildings and standing structures and the first baby steps towards me having to draw a ground plan of the section I was clearing. All this may sound to you like a load of incredibly unsubstantial things to do. To me those are of the most important skills I have so far learned in my path of an archaeology student. Before I even noticed I was starting to clear more and more of the topsoil from my 1 meter section and this little bit of our small planet was what later became my first trench, a.k.a. Bob. For future reference that is the only way I will refer to my trench. Not because I think it's funny, even though I do, but because I like to believe Bob has his own character and, yes, maybe even a soul. Oh how spiritual of me... Later on that day my lovely team-mates Jenna and Will started digging their own trenches not far from Bob. The Upper house stands no chance. Jenna is now part of the little group of two digging up a trench right across Bob, on the other side of the wall. As soon as Stephen joined Bob and me work became even more fun and easy to do. Troweling, troweling, then sieving, then some more troweling and our third day was over and done. To be continued...

Stephen, Bob and I

Digger's Log: Day 2

A bright shiny morning at Cwm Pennant and our second day begins with the frantic search of highly needed cork boards. Got one! What may perhaps be every students worst fear came true and Mark spoke those scary words: "Let's do some gardening!" The task for the day- to clear overgrowth so that a line of sight could be established between the Upper and Lower Houses. To be completely honest I didn't quite realize how much "gardening" was required. The further we got with cutting down trees and removing thorny bushes the growing realization hit me that this was a whole day consuming task. It was just after the lunch, provided by Pete and his budgeting, that Hannah asked for 2 volunteers. Now that a few days are standing between me and that very magic hour, I come to the steady conclusion that was the actual beginning of the Diggatiers learning experience. Let me never forget telling you about out only male Diggatier: Will! That guy goes into a superhuman mode every time he is given a task. Jenna and I should only be so happy that faith, the lovely people in charge of the dig placements at The Archaeology Department at Cardiff Uni, and the stern but approachable Mark Baker all got us in a team with Will. Back to this learning experience I was so flatteringly talking about, I must probably admit I was completely ignorant of how to do the real stuff- those handy, dozens of archaeological practical skills and tricks on site that actually awaken some very odd, deep-flowing emotion in me. It's not as much the practical skills themselves, but being able to understand what they actually lead to... I do degrees. I try not to make a habit out of it, like for example today when I got too carried away while troweling my trench. I did it again! Not to keep the keen readers in suspense, this big thing that Jenna and I were learning to do was setting up a base line. In other words, less fancier than I would like, we were sticking pegs in the already cleared ground beginning from the corner of the Upper House. This was made with the honest intention of setting up the first base line of the project. That, of course, never would have been done by us without the careful help and guidance of Hannah, our bad-ass supervisor. At the time of our peg-experience, Will was taken away from the saw and was simply now moving trees around. Jenna and I got transferred from the Upper House down to the Lower House where we had to continue the base line. The end of our working day out ended up at the midden deposit by the Lower House where we did more clearing. Highly excited and moderately tired, but mostly delighted with everything I was told, we, Diggatiers, headed back the the Training room for some finds cleaning and recording. This was the evening of one very heated discussion over the difference between clay silt and silty clay. May the gods watch over archaeologists and their complete lack of connection to reality, which also makes it the most charming job in the world for all of us. It's funny to me how every day seems so far away in my mind and at the same time too close. Just like on a roller-coaster you just keep on going faster until the very end. Am I still talking about digs or is it all the same?

Come and have a look

Hannah and Kate washing up the fancy ceramic, hand-painted piece we found at the end of day 1.

This is the start of something

Is this a good day for science? The 20th of July 2012. First day of the Plas Brynkir: Archaeological Building Investigation and Recording promises to be a good one, with sympathizing weather and a group of archaeology students almost completely ignorant as to what they would be doing. The working day started in the Training Room ,our own HQ, where all the action happens and all the rainy days might be spent. After a short talk on the merits of measuring techniques, building ground plans, drawings and filled with question about how, when and where we headed off to the Tower. As this is my first day of exploring the site I ought to say I was not quite prepared for the scenic site the Brynkir estates is set on. The steep green hills on one side and the notion of the sea just a few miles away does add up to the atmosphere of the site, making this a special place of archeological importance. The Tower, on the verge of where vineyards were ones supposedly situated, stands impressive even in between the tall trees that have steadily been taking over this landscape for around 2 centuries. If we are to label the different parts of this one day, with the strict covenant I have my compact little group of 3 in mind, I would personally call it: “If the devil is not in the detail, he surely is somewhere in between the mortar laughing at our attempts at taking measurements.” This rough start was in fact the task of measuring the facade of the Tower. What should have taken us 30 minutes we did half-way in an hour. Feeling down about something you can't do is most definitely not a good start to a whole month of excavations. However, before all eagerness left our little group, I reminded myself we're still only learning. And we are learning fast at that. Nothing is perfect and as it turns out neither are the different sides, building stones and elevation lines to the Tower at the Brynkir estate, just above the Upper House, respectively near the Cwm Pennant hostel where our little expedition group is staying for the period of the digs. Unfortunately we weren't able to stay at the site of the Tower for long as the owners came in. We were expected to wrap up our tasks swiftly. After a tasty lunch, provided by our magician of an administrator Pete, all groups followed the lead of Mark, our project director and Hannah, the lovely PhD student helping us out. We were about to take a walk around the site of the project. In my mind I like to think of that moment as one of a shy acquaintance between two sides in an arranged marriage, without all of the negative overtones of course. Truth is neither one of us, 9 Cardiff students, knew exactly what we were getting ourselves into. A walk down the Back Drive, from the once stables of the Brynkir estate provided the whole group with an exciting peak at just what awaits us in this month to come. Almost a hundred meters after we walked out of the hostel, Mark spotted a stone structure along the road, which could turn out to be the lost stairs of the estate. What followed after we came to the end of the back drive and had to go down the main one has a different interpretation for each and every one of us. It was not unlike those moments when everything goes dark, you all walk into one door but all see different things. The main drive wasn't cleared, however, in the name of archaeology, and our own pride, we kept on further in between the twisted trees and bushes. If comparing this to a mini- Welsh jungle, the closest thing anywhere near a lion were the sheep from the meadow just a throw away from us. Closely followed by Jenna, my group mate and Cardiff uni friend, after getting out of the embrace of the gone-wild trees, we were in front of the Lower House. And what an amazing sight it was. You know that moment in a cheesy romantic drama, involving an arranged marriage, when the bride sees her husband-to-be for the first time and the audience can here an angelic choir singing. Well, minus all the cheesiness of such a case, I felt exactly the same. Highly relieved by the beauty of the house and its different chronological stages of construction, I was ready to shake away the uncertainty of the morning measurement disaster. Exploring the midden deposits right to the east of the Lower House the other two group stumbled upon some very interesting finds, that immediately spiked up the learning archaeologists strive for glory. Hands were troweling in the dirt, some more hands were troweling and then a painted part of a plate sprung out of the silt and into Kate's hands. Me? I was carrying the finds bags, being utterly confused about what was happening, and still heavily mesmerized by the still standing Lower House. Continuing our exploration of the whole of the Brynkir site we went up Bryn Brain ( The Crow's Hill) and down the Water Gardens. However undoubtedly the highlight of my day was the finds processing and recording. We all got to wash up bits and pieces of the ceramics, pottery and glass that were found on the initial field walk. At the end of a long day, what seemed like a walk through an eternity of information, all of us 9 Cardiff Uni students found ourselves back in the Training Room at our lovely temporary home for my first ever finds processing. The ceramics, glass and pottery found by the other group were washed and recorded, a few context sheets were filled and thus our first day at the Plas Brynkir project ended. This is the beginning of a wonderful story. All you need to do is stay with the Three Diggatiers all the way through this adventure and discover just how amazing it gets.