There were salacious peepholes cut in the site hoarding so deviant archaeology buffs could get their redfaced jollies watching us grit bedaubed mud jockeys do our thing. Periodically we would be asked by these depraved sickos:
‘Did ye find any gold!’
This, of course, never failed to raise a hearty chuckle from among our number and after wiping the tears of mirth from our eyes we always returned with our well honed four letter riposte.
The final post in the Meeting House excavation series – click HERE to read more from the bestest bizarrest blog in town.