Newlin Grist Mill Archaeology

A couple of months ago Don's former co-worker (and now my friend) Dan invited me to the Newlin Grist Mill public archaeology day. I left with an invitation to join them on Wednesdays as the team continues to look for the east wall.

The work is dreadfully slow and excruciatingly painful, but oh so much fun! The first week Dan joined me and also had a great time, but, alas, he does not have enough vacation days to take off every Wednesday. This leaves me as the young 'un! Any time I think about complaining about how much it hurts (and since the ground is rock solid) I remind myself I'm at least ten years younger than everyone else. I remind them to drink water in the heat and to graciously accept the tent when it comes out after lunch.

So far I spend more time digging around a rock, only to discover it is not important and have lead archaeologist pluck it out in one fell swoop.

Where I am digging might be a wall, or it might be loose stones left in place after the western wall collapsed in the 1950 fire. There were no drawings, photographs, or written documentation of the space. It may have been a place for animals, or a storage unit, or its purpose changed over time. Due to the mortar found, it was likely built before 1860 when concrete was invented, but maybe not.

Other than the 80-minute drive to the dig site through 95 in Philadelphia, I am enjoying the actual digs. 

The work is slow

A rare piece of pottery.
Technically a porcelain lined cap used when canning to keep the
chemicals from the lid from leaking into the preserved food.

A chicken bone

Keith is in the center surrounded by little ears
absorbing every word.

Last Saturday was the Fall Festival. Over 1100 people came through and checked out what we were doing. It was quite chaotic! I don't know what I expected -- less people, and more volunteers, for sure. I thought I would be digging and filling buckets (on Wednesdays we don't move much dirt and don't sift what we find because it is obvious there is nothing there) so the public could screen. Instead I was pressed into service showing the public how to sift, and explaining what we are up to. Somehow Dan and I were deemed the experts (found out later, Dan volunteered us for the role). As I tried to glean what Keith (the only archaeologist) was telling the people, I was also sharing this brand-new knowledge with the next wave of the public. It was exhausting. I left with sore arms and a head ready to explode. Fortunately Dan had extra water and electrolytes he shared with me, and the volunteer station had more water, since I planned poorly.

In an effort to recharge, we took this Wednesday off from digging. It was much needed as Keith was sick and the rest of us were physically tired.