The storm passes and we awake to find the trenches full of sludge, which is not ideal. The Dear Leader made the schoolboy error of announcing that we were “on track to finish” the morning before the skies opened. This was a massive mistake. No excavation has ever been “on track to finish on time”, least of all one at Caistor. An excavation will finish when the last person is dragged kicking and screaming from the trenches before they are backfilled.
In the world of ditches, we finally reach the bottom of the south ditch (aka Neil’s bit). It has been proclaimed as being “two Jennys” deep, so we’ve had to step the trench in. Sir Mortimer Wheeler always used to get the smallest person on the team to stand next to his sections in the photographs to make them look bigger. Now, in the days of Elf and Safety, you have to get the tallest person to stand next to the section to make it look less alarming. So we step the trenches as we are sensible and responsible people.
Elsewhere, Chrissy has instigated a cunning T-shirt competition in an attempt to shift the remaining leisure wear. Guantanamo orange is still proving a tough sell.