We went walking yesterday, the weaver's dog and I, round 'our' wood. Inspired by some imperceptible impulse (the robin greeting us as we entered the fields? The buzzard swooping into the wood ahead of us carrying its prey?) we went widdershins, and decided to go in at a new point....Joy and Rapture unconfined - we found a Victorian (maybe even Georgian) dump!!
Broken China! Coloured Glass! Rusty Things!
I often come back from our walks with nice things in my pockets, but today I doubled my hip measurement with my pocketed loot - even found two whole bottles to play with, and the rusted remains of a small tin bath - just the handles and top frame - perfect as a weaving base.
My plan for today was to go back with a trowel and foraging bag, but it is raining. I know that would not deter Time Team, but, given the fact that the bottles were easily found, I do not think that the dump is much visited (or even known) by other walkers, so it should be safe to wait for more clement weather for my archaeological exploits.....
In the meantime I am enjoying Proust (I cannot believe that I have never read it until now; the themes of loss and memory are so pertinent) and Scruton (ditto).
Visiting WD tonight to see a friend I had not seen for more than a year until yesterday - too long - and to see the work of a self-confessed 'maker of useless objects'!
ah, a girl after my own heart, how i love to find very old dumps, such treasures that can't be described. there's a beach in Southern Tasmania that has old broken china, sea tumbled smooth, used to be a favourite spot to visit.
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