Wednesday, November 12, 2008
In honour of my dear old great-grandfather, who fought in World War I and lived to tell the tale while consuming huge numbers of Belgian waffles each 11th of November to remember his fallen comrades, I've dug my very own remembrance trench in the back garden.
Well allright, I didn't mean to dig as deep as I did, and it was pure coincidence that I dug a four-by-one-point-five meter hole on armistice day. It's only 60 cm deep, so it would hardly provide me any cover for german machinegun fire. But given the fact that I just wanted to clear the top soil of any rocks and stones, it's a pretty mighty trench.
Last spring, I removed the garden path, made partly with concrete sidewalk tiles while other parts were just concrete poured over old bricks. There's a lot of bricks and old rubble underneath it, and it's very difficult (or bloody impossible) to dig the blade of a shovel into that stuff. So I had to dig underneath it, and pry the bricks out by hand, then sift the sand to get the remainder of the rocks out. It's a tedious job, and so far I did about 10 meters, which means that 15 more meters of garden await me.
At first I tought I found the remains of a Roman village, but actually it's a whole city, complete with Collosseum, bathing house and protective bullwarks. I also found a genuine Roman bycicle, although I still have to carbon date it because it's also possible that it dates from the Neolithic age.
I'll keep you posted if I find any dinosaur skeletons.