Day Five - Home Sweet Home

There is nothing better than coming home to collapse on your own bed, shower in your own shower and of course talk to the people of your own choosing. I was rubbish on the Tel today. I was tired and cranky and at some point nauseous and dizzy. My square mates and the assistants really helped out and took up the slack for me, but I felt bad about it. It's clear to me now that archaeology is only half about books, research and writing. The other half is about heat, sweat, social skills, perseverance, tolerance and a considerable amount of stamina.

The first thing my lovely wife said to me as I walked in is "that rancid Pakistani milkman beard must go". She was right. When I looked at myself in the mirror I clearly understood why the young girl I offered a ride from the Kibbutz to Herzliya Pituach told me at the last minute that "she really doesn't know me and she would prefer not to ride with a stranger" (we have only been working cheek to jowl in the same area for the last week - I know these people better than I know some of my squints). So off came the "archaeological beard". Shaving at 4 in the morning during the last week just seemed like a bad idea.

I'm having a good time at the dig, really, but it is so good to be home. I promise to never complain about blackwifeo's snoring again.