To continue where the previous post left off, I’m now grafting chunks of skirt back together using the kitchener stitch because hey, I like to laugh in the face of potential knitpocalyse.
It’s not a quick process, partly because of frequent interruptions by Robyn-the-robin tapping on the window for more mealworms… or a passing twin asking, “Mummy, do birds have tongues?” or “Can you hear electricity?” or “When’s lunch?” At least Robyn is able to answer one of those questions:-
So, whilst we pace the length of the waiting room, hoping to hear that the patient (skirt) has survived surgery, may I please tell you about something cool? Look! :-
And this is its other side:-
It’s hundreds of years old, and I found it in the garden. Here’s the story.
So, we live in a very old converted brewery. As you might expect, we often find old bits and pieces buried or hidden around the place. Chunks of Victorian/Edwardian smoking pipe are a particularly common find, and I like to leave a few in plant pots, to look like a hundred-and-something-year-old smokers’ corner.
Once, we found a whole extra cellar, in addition to the legit, official cellar that was on the house details when we bought this place. Seriously, I’m not joking. The Stoic Spouse opened the secret hatch that we found in the floor of the downstairs loo, and let himself nervously down into the abyss below. There was a lot of rubble, and some railway lines. No, I don’t mean railway sleepers, I mean actual pieces of metal railway line. Weird. Understandably he backed off, and we’ve never opened that hatch since. There’s also a rumour of a tunnel from our (legit) cellar to the pub across the road, but we’ve never yet found it.
The other day I was evading my responsibilities to try and home-educate the children, by weeding the garden. I wasn’t expecting to find any artefacts because in the five years it took me to redevelop this garden, I dug over every single inch of ground to a depth that practically hit Australia. (In other news, I’m not prone to exaggeration at all.)
But then I found this thing.
It’s just under an inch across, and its weight and colour made me assume that it’s made of lead. But that was where my insight ended. A helpful archaeological friend put me in touch with our local finds officer, and I sent him the details. I didn’t expect a response for some time, but I guess that the global pandemic has interrupted most of his usual activities, so I had a reply within an hour. Here’s what he said:-
My first impression is that you have a Medieval to Post Medieval (AD 1200 – 1800) lead token. The date range on these is huge because we get lots of them and they vary a huge amount in form! They can be used for lots of different purposes, as gaming counters, weights, trade tokens and more.
Interesting, if a little non-specific! So it’s anywhere from two hundred to eight hundred years old. Our village is plenty older than that range, so anything is possible. I’m going to try and find out more. I wonder who dropped it, and why. I wonder what they used it for, how they came to have it. It’s been difficult to find out much about the history of our home, but I can’t help wondering about the lives that have passed this way before.
Somehow, I’m going to get more information. And when I do, I’ll let you know.
And in the meantime, I’ll just have to get on with the knitting.