Posted on 01/21/2005 3:50:17 PM PST by vannrox
The Tonks family, who ran a brickworks and set up steam mills and a shipping company in the area, had lived alongside their workers and archaeologists expect to find evidence of the different social standing of the residents.
"Bones will tell us that. You would expect the Tonks' probably ate roast mutton (leg bone) while rib bones would show their workers were eating mutton flaps," McGovern-Wilson said.
Were they 5 gallon or 1.6 gallons?
Sniffing around old potty jes' has to require a government grant. These archaologists are probably excited because they found used condoms and tampons.
They already have a term for it. Coprolite analysis, though I think that usually refers to petrified caca.
This sounds more like digging through privies, which archies do here in the US too. You get a lot of information that way about diet, nutrition, relative wealth, that sort of thing. I've never done it myself, but I have dug through dumps/refuse piles.
Goodness, if they have an obsession to
dig through poop . . .
I'm sure Shrillery and Billdo's house is full of it.
Probably a lot fresher!
Get a hold of a copy of Mollie Harris's Cotswold Privies for a thorough history . . .
"Dunnie" by the way is short for "Dunniekin" or "Dinna ken" i.e. "I don't know" . . . the modest answer to "where are you going?" when headed for the "necessary", "down the garden", "reading room", or any of the other many euphemisms for the outdoor privy. Privy itself is a euphemism, from "privatus" meaning "private place."
BTW, after 75 years all the "stuff" has completely decomposed and all you've got is just particularly rich soil. We accidentally excavated one once with a backhoe, belatedly realized what it was when the old seats surfaced in the bucket . . . but it didn't smell.
"I get kind of giddy over mine too after several beers..."
Yeah, I saw alot of that over 30 years ago when I was in the Navy. Usually some drunk sailor looking for his buddy "O'Roake" or shopping for a car "Buick."
Great! LOL
"Real comfortable, not unusual to go thru a reading of 'Gone With The Wind' or 'Exodus' in one sitting."
Wow, be careful. My physician told me that long sessions can cause hemoroids!
You gotta pity the poor Interns who are no doubt going to be the ones doing the digging.
sheesh!
I would be strained some but, me too.
BTW, It was Christy Turner who used a mummified corpolite (turd) to end the controversy as to wheather the Indians of the Chaco Canyon ate human flesh. They did.
I actually might have examined some of those bones. Green-stick fractures of the femurs (getting to the marrow while the bone is still fresh), lack of collagen in the bones (probably boiled), lots of cut marks at the epiphesis. Fairly gristly stuff actually. Christy Turner had sent the bones to my professor for a second opinion.
I'll have to look up the book. Ahh, and guess what? It is by none other than Christy Turner. Interesting.
Yeah in the middle of the night I usually hit the target correct 8 out of 10 tries!
You'd really have to know your sh!t to do that!
I smell a project idea...there are many rural areas in the US that have had outhouses for over 150 years.
ROTFLMPO! Hmmm. I need a new tag line.
Ode To The Little Brown Shack
(Billy Ed Wheeler)
They past an ordinance in the town
Said we'd have to tear it down
That little brown shack out back so dear to me
Though the health department said
It's day was over and dead
It will stand forever in my memory
Don't let 'em tear that little brown building down
Don't let 'em tear that little brown building down
Don't let 'em tear that little brown building down
There's not another like it in the country or the town
It was not too long ago
That I went tripping through the snow
Out to that house behind my old hound dog
Where I'd sit me down to rest
Like a snow bird on her nest
And read the Sears and Roebuck catalog
I would hum a happy tune
Peeping through the quarter moon
Just like my Pappy's kin had done before
It was in that quiet pot
Daily cares could be forgot
And it gave the same relief to rich and poor
It was not a castle fair
I could build my future there
Build castles to the yellow jacket's drone
I could orbit round the sun
Fight with General Washington
Or be a king upon his own throne
It wasn't fancy built at all
Had newspapers on the wall
It was air conditioned in the wintertime
It was just a humble hut
But it's door was never shut
And a man could get inside without a dime
Copyright Quartet Music, Inc. & Bexhill Music
from the singing of Ed Britt
I've got some old toilet paper. Perhaps they would want to see it.
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