All Shall Fall

Meanwhile, back at the ranch. The Ukrainian butchers seems to be multiplying. Another one hatched last Monday. We had formal introductions during which I missed his name. It is now beyond the embarrassing point where I could ask him again what it is, so I generally say 'hey!' or 'hi!' when greeting him. The house now seems very full with four Ukrainians (one in transit) and an Evil Herr Doktor doing human experimentation in the cellar. It was with great pomp and circumstance that the Doktor in question, Herr Clay announced this morning he would be leaving soon. He like me, is fed up of being awoke to the sounds of showering Ukrainians at five o'clock every morning. At least this means the beatings will stop and I may regain feeling in the right side of my body once again. But having got something of a Stockholm syndrome relationship with Clay I am sorry he will be off. Sad times indeed.

'It has been a pleasure, but I must away to Durham...'

Clay's proposed leaving will not be the only thing that has drawn to a close this week and the excavations at Heslington wrapped up amidst the two wettest days of the century on Monday and Tuesday. The rain fell in sheets and reminded all involved of the great Tsunami of 2004. We slipped and slided our way to the end of site, I had finished everything I needed to do, except my context sheets. Well, I didn't want those doing post-ex to have to deal with a ball of wet paper so I left them to finish off back in the office. On Tuesday my team bought me a box of beer as a farewell present, I was so touched I prompty opened a bottle and passed it round them all. I thought they hated me for making them work outside and/or in the rain. Obviously they were harbouring some deep seated form of respect for me... It seemed to have paid off as we were the most efficient team on site and had everything wrapped up way before time. But, having said that, there was still more to do over on the Herr Doktor's area as he had jumped ship and buggered off to Germany for a long weekend of cheap frothy beer and cheaper Frauleins whilst the rest of the archaeology department cleared up his fucking mess.

Up yours, Heslington East!!

And that brings me to the end of site 'party' held at Penny's. She was hosting a barbecue which I was fast running out of excuses to go to, so fortified by beer at Logan Josh's summoning I was driven out to the arse end of North Yorkshire to end up feeling slightly uncomfortable in the presence of my peers. The only thing to do was to down as much beer as humanly possible to get me through the night. It ended with Penny showing us pictures of a dog she hasn't yet taken ownership of on her computer. I was very glad when all the feigning 'awwws' and 'oooohs' were over and I was promptly dropped back at my gaff.

No-one barbecues in the rain, quite like the British...