I
was using a "variant" until I dug it up and looked it up – the concrete
under my lawn and the word archeology (archaeology), that is. Now I know the most proper way to spell it.
Google
defines “ar·chae·ol·o·gy: the study of human history and prehistory through the
excavation of sites and the analysis of artifacts and other physical remains.”
It
wasn't easy – freeing my backyard lawn from a huge mass of concrete the
landscapers covered with thin sod four years ago. In 1981, my wise father-in-law, a "jack
of all trades", taught me how to break up concrete slabs, and it worked
exactly the same way 33 years later. He
also showed me how to dig dirt efficiently, which has been very helpful on
numerous projects. I learned that if you
want it done right, do it yourself.
(Maybe that’s why DIY is so popular, I now see the initialism used as a
verb in ads.)
Last
Saturday's archaeological dig, as I think of it, was not in my plans for “The
First Day of Summer (Summer Solstice) 2014” (Google verified it.) But when my curiosity took control, I dug up a
patch of lawn to see why on earth it was always struggling. Bad dirt?
To my horror, it was not on earth, but on concrete! In the hot sun, removing more and more sod to
find the edges of the single solid mass and dig under it, I was fascinated to find
all sorts of “artifacts” left by mankind.
Not nice. Going deeper, I
photographed, wishing an archaeologist had been there to properly document the
dig – methods and skills I never learned but would love to. I discovered what a worker was drinking, and
what a farmer was using to keep livestock fenced in; (recalled pulling brutal
barbed wire at the ranch as a teenager.)
This could go on and on. It was
not surprising, since digging a vegetable garden here two years ago unearthed other
remains of past civilization, like an ancient garbage dump here on the frontier. Of course I'd saved a big block of concrete I
used as a weight for two years until it really came in handy to prop up this
slab for sledge-hammer work … wears me out just thinking about it. Three of the old ten-foot planks I got for
free four years ago provided leverage.
Thanks to my strong son-in-law, who arrived just in time to haul the
heaviest chunks out of the huge hole, help me fill it with earth in place of concrete,
and transplant extra sod that I helped a neighbor remove last April. As I have joked many times, “Never throw
anything away that might be useful someday.”
And take care to document what may provide clues to human history.
So
much for another addition to my personal
history. Have some fun writing yours,
and don’t let life’s garbage get to you!
Oh, and remember your roots –
plant where they will grow.
