|Here I am sorting flint|
The other day I was washing bones when a guy with a video camera approached us and started interviewing people. I didn’t expect him to be interested in what I was doing so I went about my brushing as if he wasn’t there.
It wasn’t until I had just started to scrub a huge chunk of bovine jaw that the man approached me and started to ask me questions. I agreed to his interview, and while holding onto half of a cow mandible I gave him my name, Francis Flanagan, and explained to him what I was doing.
Now I had never been interviewed before, and thus was pretty nervous about the whole thing. So I tried to be articulate as possible and did my best to speak as if I knew what I was doing and that I wasn’t a complete rookie. But really there wasn’t much to say about the situation anyway, I was washing off some bones and sorting them out, not exactly enough for a news article. Still I said what I could and let him get some close-ups of the jaw piece, a gnarled hunk of bone with every crevice crammed with mud.
He then left to talk to someone else and I went back to brushing cow teeth, hoping that I hadn’t made a complete idiot out of myself on camera.
|and here I'm helping out with flotation|