Dropping by and oats and rye at Lyminge

What better way to spend a fine summer’s day than visiting the fine fields of south-east Kent? Where the fields are ripe with swaying golden corn, and Anglo-Saxon archaeology? Yes, it’s Lyminge, and it was well worth spending seven+ hours on the train to visit this year’s dig. As ever, you can follow the story…

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Spelt… wrongly?

Q: What do you call a spelt grain in an Anglo-Saxon pit? A: Residual OK, so it’s not going to win any prizes at the Edinburgh Festival. Indeed, it’s not even a joke – it almost makes a serious point. You see, it’s all about the shadow – the spectre, even – of residuality that…

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A cast of thousands

In the last thrilling instalment, I introduced my tangential involvement with the Lyminge Archaeological Project, and described how I spent a substantial slice of life examining large quantities of charred plant remains. So, what did I find? Well, the most striking thing about my assemblage is Sample 24 which, not to put too fine a…

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Curse of the Black Spelt

It was a cold, darkling evening in winter, and the Institute of Archaeology lay safely at anchor in Oxford harbour, sheltered in the lee of the Ashmolean. As the clock struck 7 bells, a visiting Captain – I mean, lecturer – took his stand upon the quarterdeck and delivered an engaging Powerpoint presentation. The subject:…

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