July 22nd 2007

Today was one of those days when everything lines up, and you wonder how on Earth it happened.

Our plans were to meet at my house and then travel the 3 miles to the site of the house my company is painting, where a nice shallow woody was waiting for us. Mike called to say his Son was in town and that he would not be able to join us. Steve pulled in and we headed over to the 1861 farm house.

I had probed up a woody a few days ago. It took lots of time and even more luck to find it. The yard is huge and has no tell tale signs of any previous pits. After I had jabbed and stabbed for a solid hour, I was making my way back to my work van when I noticed some chunks of mortar laying in the grass. On the next stab I almost fell onto my face. Thar she blows !!!

We removed the sod and laid down some tarps and started flinging dirt. The pit was only a 5 footer, so we knew it would go pretty quick. We had no idea just HOW quick. At 4 feet we had still encountered zero layering or any sign at all. On the bottom at five feet we found two lonely old bricks... and that was it.

What a salty turn of events, to go so long in my glassless state and then to be skunked so abruptly, and effectively. I stabbed and jabbed a little more nearby, and found a small area that had glass popping just under the sod, but that also petered out after about a foot of depth. Figuring on pulling out some recent Pepsi bottle glass, I went ahead and tore back some of the sod and scratched about in the dirt. My first scratch brought up wax sealer mouths and two open pontil base frags. Holy Cripes !!!

Steve and I dove in with both hands. Steve pulled out an intact open pontiled "Davis Vegetable Pain Killer". His first open pontiled bottle. Well, he would have to be owning that one, regardless of what else popped out. Next up was the broken side of an embossed bottle that read "rhubarb". Then some ridged amber pieces started showing up. A few more and I was able to make out that it was from an amber Robacks Barrel stomach bitters. Ouch.

More pontiled bases popped out, and a killer flared lip broken something in teal. A small "Dr. O. E. Osborn/genuine golden liniment" came out with some lip chips and a big open pontil. Without warning, the glass ended onto clay at about a foot deep. The area was about 3 by 3 feet in diameter. I probed through the clay with both short and long probe but there was nothing else. Must have been just a small dumping area.

It was like being scared by someone as a joke, where for a brief moment you are suckered into believing that impossible things are happening, only to have reality wash back over you and set your heels back on the ground a moment later. Over, as quick as it had started.

With promises exchanged to try to find the time to get out and dig more, Steve and I parted. He was pleased with his first pontiled bottle, and I was pleased to watch him find it and set his personal treasure-timeline back another notch.

Until we dig again I shall remain, your humble Glasshopper.