Summer of 1981

I had always wanted to be an archaeologist for as long as I can remember. I went on my first dig when I was 16, but later a careers adviser told me that there were "no jobs in archaeology". So I went to Art College, hated it, and eventually ran away to become a field archaeologist. I was actually very good at it, with a natural understanding of stratigraphy and dirt, and an inclination to the sometimes hard physical labour. I got a job with the Southampton archaeological unit, and lived a happy albeit underpaid life.

This photograph was captured by a photographer working for the Southern Evening Echo, and was taken at an open-house the unit was holding on the Six-Dials site. By this time, the Summer of 1981, I had been working in field archaeology in England for over three years, all year long. This was actually a lot of experience compared to archaeologists I later worked with in the Middle East who only worked in the field two months in the year. 

Unfortunately for my career in archaeology in the UK, March that year I had married a Canadian. In September I emigrated to Canada because I thought it was what she wanted.