Dig file

The application for joining the dig made it clear that I was applying not to sit under an awning with a paint brush swishing away at an artifact, but to use pickaxe, shovel, and wheelbarrow to haul dirt in the desert sun. That’s fine with me; I like to exercise, and am not afraid to break a sweat. * Two nights ago I was standing in our backyard watching a thunderstorm and counting after every lightning bolt to judge how far away they were. (Five seconds until you hear the thunder equals one mile.) I would see lightening and count “one thousand, two thousand, three thousand…” After one bolt I only got through “two thousand” before hearing an impressively loud boom. It occurred to me then that I need to inform Sandra as to where the file containing information about the dig is, in case I die and can’t go. Someone needs to let the program director in Tel Aviv know that I will not be there. I went inside and explained to Sandra how to contact the appropriate people if it should become necessary. Sandra joked that if it turns out I can’t make it then maybe she will go in my place. “Yes,” I said, “good idea. Write the director and tell her I’m no longer around, but that I left a nice insurance policy, so please change the name on the paperwork from ‘Kregg’ to ‘Sandra’ and you’ll see her in June.”