Found: Medieval Well

Colin Steer and his wife Vanessa.
Photo: SWNS, Source.

Going through my (very long) backlog of news articles and online ephemera earlier today (Happy Thanksgiving! We're celebrating tomorrow because I'm exhausted and why not!), I found this delightful article about a man in Plymouth, Devon, UK who found an old well under his living room while doing some home improvement chores one day. He's dug down 17 feet so far (all in the past year -- this is what he's doing with his retirement); found a crude, peasant's sword; and installed lights and trap door (see above).

According to living room adventurer and hobby historian Colin Steer's research, the land on which his home was built was woodland until the late 19th century, and archival plans date the well to at least the 16th century. He now wants to hire a professional to see if he can date it even further back in time.

Steer states:

I love the well and think it's fascinating. I'd love to find out who was here before us. I've got a piece of Plymouth's history in my front room. 

 Colin's wife, Vanessa, is less than enthused (just look at that glare on her face in the photo above), and says:

I hate the well. 

I just think this story's great.

Perhaps this will become a (relatively) regular sub-feature: Medieval Found Objects? Refer to my previous Found entry on Medieval Underwears, here.

Found: Medieval Underwears

This post's found objects weren't discovered by me, but by archaeologist Beatrix Nutz, a lady PhD candidate with a fantastic name and a jackpot dissertation.

Source

The University of Innsbruck announced Wednesday that archaeologists (lead by Nutz) have discovered a fantastic cache of medieval household detritus and miscellany used in the early 15th century as insulation under a floor at the castle of Lengberg in Eastern Tirol, Austria. The preliminary report lists:

more than 200 coins, 160 coloured playing cards of carton belonging to more than four different decks*, objects of iron and alloys, bones, horn, glass, ceramics plus more than 50 pieces of writing from amongst other things accounts, chits and litergical texts.** 

This list doesn't even get into the treasure trove of 15th century textiles that's caused international interest: a fully preserved male hose, embroidered lacing and silks, pleated shirts, fragments of hats and linen headgear, and -- most exciting -- four bras.

Comfy looking bras at that.

Fashion experts (and academics and researchers, I'm sure!) "describe the find as surprising" as the bra was commonly thought to have been invented in the late 19th century/early 20th century as a replacement for the corset.*** Not so; looks like the bra came first, then the corset, then the bra, again, reinvented. Comfy always wins.

Though the treasure trove was unearthed in 2008, the university only made the news public this week, after extensive research, carbon dating, and DNA testing of the found textiles and the recent publication of an article in BBC History Magazine.

Source

They used DNA testing to determine the sex of the person who wore these underwears above, which I find awesome and also horrifically embarrassing for whoever wore them. Note to self: wash all articles of clothing before using them as insulation material/dying. Though they look like fancy, lady's bikini bottoms, Nutz told reporters that they were most likely men's underwears as women didn't wear any at the time. 

"Underpants were considered a symbol of male dominance and power," she said.

But who wears the fancy bikini underwears now!!!

***

* What would I give for photo images of some of those playing cards? I wonder if any of them belong to an early tarot/tarocchi deck...

** Check out the article at Medieval Histories Magazine. 

*** Read the Washington Post article here. 

Walking with Mr. Coe

Roscoe and I went on a nice, long walk through the neighborhood early this morning. We decided to turn up Love Creek Road in order to stay cool as the morning got warmer, and stuck with it until the road narrowed to a single lane. The Santa Cruz Mountains are full of weird little nooks and crannies -- hollows and gulches -- full of strange tales, abandoned camps, ghosts, memories. Love Creek may be one of the most storied of them all. 

Approaching Love Creek Road, in Ben Lomond.

 It's a beautiful walk. The steep gulch walls provide near-constant shade for redwoods, moss, and ferns to grow, the road crosses the creek a handful of times, and there are quite a few nice little (and not so little) cabins to ogle at along the way.

Mr. Coe likes this walk especially, I think mainly because it's as close as he can get to going on a hike without hopping in the car and going to a local state park or wildlife reserve. No sidewalk to stick to, lots of stinky spots and bugs and bushes and undergrowth to tromp through right at the edge of the road. 

Roscoe, mountain scout

Though he does have to stay on leash.

"EXCUSE ME, CAN WE CONTINUE PLEASE?"

Love Creek, like most of the San Lorenzo Valley, is full of weird and wonderful signage. Especially "No Trespassing" signs. Like, everywhere. The last house up before the road narrows has an amazing road sign nailed up to a pole in the yard that reads "15 MPH ASSHOLE". I really wanted to take a picture, but was too scared to actually pull out my camera and do so lest I infuriate these people with such aggressive taste in yard decor. 

Love Creek residents like to clearly mark their PRIVATE PROPERTY. 

I didn't notice the sign below until we passed it for the second time on our way back down the creek towards town. I stood there looking at it for a long time, and just couldn't figure it out. What was there to witness? Had the evidence of the (maybe) witnessed event/thing been taken away? Was it the sand bags? Was there a slide? Was there a lot of water? Was it something else entirely? Was it an accident? Was it vandalism? Did it happen at night? Are they mad? Are they sad? Is there a reward?

So many questions.

I'd like to write more about Love Creek in the future; I think it's a super interesting place with a lot of valuable stories to tell. In the mean time, I'll leave a final photo of Roscoe checking out the toy box in the clearing right where the road narrows to pique your interest. 

new books, tarot play, and a nesting bird

I've been doing some spring cleaning, both at home and at the office, and recently took an enormous bag-load of books I no longer wanted* down to Logos Books to sell. I made $50 and took a $20 trade coupon as well, then immediately blew a good amount of it on two new books I scoped out while walking through the store towards the exit. IT'S LIKE LOGOS IS BOOBY-TRAPPED. WITH BOOKS. SPECIFICALLY TAILORED TO PEOPLE JUST LIKE ME. 

Uh, did you know that Jules Verne wrote a gothic novel that was serialized in 1892 in a French magazine entitled The Magazine of Education and Recreation? That it was first translated into English as The Castle of the Carpathians in 1894? That it was "the first book to set a gothic horror story, featuring people who may or may not be dead [emphasis mine], in Transylvania"? And that this purple little paperback is the newest translation in over 100 years? Neither did I, and you know what? I was so bewildered and astonished -- by all of these things -- that I had to buy it. It looks like it would be really fun to read aloud (perhaps as originally intended?) and enjoy with an audience. 

I also bought this book from semiotext(e), Sergio González Rodriguez's The Femicide Machine, on the various converging socio-historical mise-an-scenes and cultural and political apparatuses that have caused the horrific and ongoing disappearances and murders of tens of thousands of women and girls in Ciudad Juárez. Guess what? Neoliberalism, NAFTA, and the war on drugs have a lot to do with it (DUH), as do a breathtaking lack of infrastructure and blatant governmental corruption. The writing isn't the best (and I hope that's due to the translation, sorry Michael Parker-Stainback**, man with a name that sounds made up), but the analysis is certainly thought-provoking and I always appreciate a book (title) that plays it as it lays: the mass murders in Juárez are femicide, plain and simple, and only an intellectual hop-skip-and-a-jump away from genocide. Let's just call a spade a spade. We'll see how it reads out; the text is something I may want to work with when planning for the course I'll be putting together for the fall. 

I've also been messing with a friend's tarot reading. It's private and so I won't go into it -- but don't my cards match the crazy 70's carpeting in my office nicely? Beautiful colors, had to take a photo. 

Lastly, I found this sign right outside the entrance to the New Leaf Market in Felton earlier today. HOW NICE AND POLITE AND THOUGHTFUL FOR EVERYONE/BIRD INVOLVED IS THIS SIGN? Mountain people, they're considerate and I like it. 

* I'm very serious about books, and tend to covet and then hoard them, but even I have my limits. Unless a book serves a special purpose, is of a particular subject or genre of interest, was a gift, or has special sentimental value, it's up for elimination from the collection. Case in point: The beautiful little hardcover copy of the I Ching that I bought close to ten years ago... THAT I'VE NEVER USED OR ACTUALLY READ. It's finally gone, and I hope it finds a home with someone who will love it and use it every day very soon. 

** Check out photos of his swanky 60s-fabulous DF apartment at tarde o temprano's site here. It'll kind of make you feel like a creep, but hey, the profile's title is "Closet Voyeur" and there's a mesmerizing video with family photos and old typewriters and it plays swing music.

Found: Golden State Speller

A couple of weeks ago, while unpacking one of the last boxes of books and miscellany left in my parents' garage, I came across this old grade school spelling primer I bought when I was still a college student living in Santa Cruz. I remember buying this on a whim, for super cheap, at a weird old used and antique books store in Moss Landing. In the back, there were boxes full of old text books that had been used by area public schools. I only bought the one; I probably picked it because I liked the cover. I regret not picking up a couple others, especially now that the bookstore's gone. 

This one little artifact is pretty neat, though. I love the Viola Swamp/Big Brother tone of the notice stamped on the inside front cover. Also, note that this particular book was only in use for four years. WHAT.  Those were the good old days, I guess, when the state was somehow flush with cash devoted to education funding. In the middle of the Great Depression. It actually makes me really sad to think about how priorities have changed in this state and the country as a whole. 

How super neat is this? I'm assuming that the "Laurel School" is now the Louden Nelson Community Center in downtown Santa Cruz.

Here's a nice peek at what fourth graders in California public schools were given in order to learn how to spell: 

Trying to come to terms with the fact that people once used the plural of beef -- beeves -- in any way, shape, or form is kind of breaking my brain. 

Similarly, thinking of teaching children vocabulary useful for serving, specifically, good foods really tickles me.

My favorite part about the book, by far, is that it came with a couple pages of notes that a school teacher had written up hidden in the very back. He or she (she? ladies handwriting, or did everybody have lovely penmanship in the '30s?) must have been preparing their lesson plan at the last minute. I WOULD KNOW. 

They look like notes for an American history or regional studies lesson. I'm especially curious about the "demographic" groups listed on the sheet on the left -- antebellum society of the rural South? How many large plantations survived the American civil war? I WILL NOT LET THIS BECOME A NEW PROCRASTINATION INVESTIGATION.