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What Happened at Beit Bat Ya’anah: part 2

This is the second installment of the series, click on the link at the bottom of this page to continue to the next installment.  Or, click here to start reading from the very beginning.  Previously:

Wilson A. Rankle waved a hand to indicate they should follow the goat track back down to camp. “Well, it’s almost tea-time,” he said. “Mikka will have put out mits, biscuits and hot water. Oh, there’s coffee too…” “Marvelous,” Professor Wayfarer said, not impressed with the standard options of reconstituted juice or hot drinks. “Lead the way.”

Tea and Announcements

The staff of Beit Bat Ya’anah was clumped along one edge of the dining tarp at the dig camp compound. The sun was low, and there was only a small trapezoid of dirt on the east side of the shelter that wasn’t in the sun. A table for dry biscuits, teabags, instant coffee, cups, and a hot water urn took up the prime part of the trapezoid, and everyone was crowded into the remaining geometry of shade around it. Nobody was talking much, except to pass the sugar or powdered milk, or to ask for water to dilute the puckeringly sweet mits fruit juice.

Einer Wayfarer inserted herself among the subdued group, managing to get most of her upper body out of the sun. But her feet, already dusty again from the walk from the shower to her cabin-tent to the tea table, were baking in the late afternoon light. She was still mildly disgruntled from discovering that the showers, an open-air affair on a rough cement slab surrounded by semi-opaque plastic sheeting and inadequately shaded by camo-mesh, were communal, with set times for men and women.

In Wayfarer’s firm opinion, this rustic system wasn’t ideal: the real possibility of getting sunburnt while bathing did not appeal; and the water, heated by the sun all day in exposed plumbing, had been unpleasantly hot. Furthermore, the cracked and pitted cement looked like a prime breeding ground for foot fungus. Still, considering the remoteness of the site, she was pleasantly surprised to find running water at all, and wondered about its source.

Precise enough to note physical discomfort, but too practical to be hampered by it, Wayfarer got on with studying the dig staff. It was apparent that the BGU archæology department didn’t employ local workmen: to judge by the accents she was hearing this was a diverse international bunch: she counted fourteen, mostly Yanks and a few Aussies and Europeans, plus a handful of Israelis. All of the staff she saw were the right age to be grad students or post-docs, except for one precocious American undergrad who must have been deemed sufficiently mature by his advisor to be packed off to help. That meant everyone was working for free, receiving either course credit or resumé-plumping experience in exchange for heavy manual labor, long hours and mediocre food.

She decided that archæology students presented more disreputably than her tidy literary lot back in the states, and that all of the Americans and most of the Aussies were even grungier-looking than the Israelis, if that were possible. Of course, this was to be expected; it was the tail-end of a long, hard season, and everyone looked tired and worn as thin as their grubby tee-shirts.

Wayfarer also noticed that besides herself and the person she assumed was the cook, Mikka, who had startlingly pink hair and a nose stud, there was only one other woman present – young, almost as short as the professor but a good deal slimmer, and who, having grabbed a styrofoam cup of coffee, was headed directly at her.

“Zvi,” the young woman said briefly, then elaborated “Zvia Ben-Tor. You must be Professor Wayfarer. My advisor’s your buddy Ballard Sybar, at Princeton.” She held out a square palm to shake. Everything about her, starting with her name and her haircut, seemed abbreviated.

“Ah, Ballard,” Wayfarer said diplomatically. “We missed him at the ESSA meeting this spring.” This was an outright lie. No one ever missed Sybar — he was a bully and a pain in the ass. Wayfarer thought if this compact young woman could put up with Ballard, she could put up with anything.

“I’m sure you did,” Zvi said, with equal truth and perfect understanding. “By the way,” she added quietly. “The E-word is a four-letter word around here, just so you know.”

Wayfarer, recalling Wilson Rankle’s earlier peevishness, said without lowering her voice, “Yes, I gathered as much. Both directors?”

“Just Dr. Rankle,” Zvi explained. “Amit’s a love-muffin. Not literally,” she added quickly, as Wayfarer’s pale blue eyes latched onto her inquisitively. “I mean, on that topic. Maintains an open mind, at least. He hired me, for example. I’m the only Elennuist on the staff, practically.”

“Practically?” asked Wayfarer; one was either an Elennuist or not.

Zvia opened her mouth, but closed it again, and tilted her head to point. “Oh, here comes Dr. Rankle. It’s afternoon announcement time.”

Wayfarer looked. Wilson A. Rankle was approaching, the comb-over now firmly in place against his pink scalp. He was holding a cold bottle of soda in one hand. No doubt it was from some personal supply; she imagined there might even be a padlock involved. Wayfarer disliked soft drinks, but she disliked self-endowed aristocracy even more.

“Good afternoon, people. Ben-Tor, put on some shoes, will you, unless you’re trolling for scorpions?” He opened his mouth to continue, but something caught his eye. “Eric, what’s that mess you’re holding on your neck?”

“Ice,” the sole undergrad explained, “in a baggie. Area D has wasps in the balks again.”

“Are you allergic? No? Well then, I’ll get on with it. Have you all met Dr. Wayfarer? She’s from MacCormack U and is here to look at our supposed Mystery Object in case it’s something special. Please extend her the courtesy of showing her the ropes around camp and in the lab for however long she’s with us. Also, I have a general announcement that I shouldn’t have to make, but since Dr. Wayfarer has just arrived, it’s worth informing her and reminding you all that this late in the season, water is in very short supply, so limit your showers to three minutes and keep them within the afternoon hours, so the pumps have enough time to refill the cistern, otherwise we’ll go dry. Limit clothes-washing to bare necessity, too. What’s so funny, Zohn?” he added wearily, as if engaged in a habitual battle.

The remark was directed at a sturdy staff member with a nimbus of brown hair and a patriarch’s beard. “Just thinking how appropriate the term rank and vile will be,” he joked. Everyone tittered.

“That’s rank and file, Zohn,” the director corrected, as if it were ignorance and not a pun. He went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “And, let me remind everyone, once again, that for your own safety the upper wadi is strictly off limits, at any time, but especially after dark. None of you has any reason… any reason to be up there. At all. And I mean none of…” he looked around and demanded, “where’s Dario?”

No one said anything.

Rankle finished up abruptly, “Well, I think I’ve made myself clear. That’s all.”

He turned to Einer Wayfarer. “There’s half an hour until dinner. Would you like to see the object now?”

Half an hour? Half an hour? She’d come half-way around the world on short notice and she was being offered half an hour of face time with the mystery object? Not damn likely. Wayfarer settled her dense body weightily onto a bench and folded her short-fingered hands firmly around her styrofoam cup.

“Thanks, Wilson,” she said, “but it can wait until after dinner, I think. I’d like to chat with your staff.”

To be continued…

To read Part 3 “Wayfarer’s Explanation”, click here.

(This series is a prequel to the eight-part “Ganskopf Incident”, click here to read the Ganskopf Incident; earliest posts are at the bottom; scroll down to start there.)

Posted by Allison on Mar 25th 2011 | Filed in archaeology,art/clay,artefaux,Beit Bat Ya'anah,pseudopod waltz | Comments (1)

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Profile Allison does not consider herself a wildlife artist, but an observer who takes notes in clay. More info...

Where are the Owl Hives?

The Owl Hives are in Chandler.

On Friday night, March 18, the All AZ Clay Invitational Exhibition opened at the Chandler Center for the Arts, displaying the work of more than 40 clay artists from all over the state of Arizona.  Among them is an installation of artefaux by me, entitled Assemblage: Owl Hives.

>> Assemblage: Owl Hives (photo and piece, A.Shock 2011)

The piece is composed of a variety of related, archeologically-themed elements, and is intended to be viewed on its own æsthetic merits.  But, if you read this blog regularly, parts of the installation will look familiar to you, since I’ve posted bits and pieces of it before, in progress.  Also, in the Assemblage, you may recognize a tie-in to the fictional posts that appear here irregularly: according to the signs, the piece is purported to be on loan from the august but mysterious Ganskopf Foundation.  In addition, the ubiquitous and insinuating Dr. Darius Danneru has graciously provided an excerpt from a recent article, supplying authoritative and scholarly, if prolix, context for the piece.  <<

I hope you can stop by the Chandler Center for the Arts’ Vision Gallery anytime before April 16, when the show closes, to see what the Arizona clay community is up to, including three pieces by Don Reitz, from the CCA’s collection.  More info below, or click on Three Star Owl events(Photo E.Shock>>)

Exhibition Dates, Hours, and Location:

March 18 – April 16, 2011
Vision Gallery Hours: Monday – Friday, 10 am – 5 pm, Saturdays, Noon – 4 pm
at: Chandler Center for the Arts
MAP/Directions
250 North Arizona Avenue
Chandler AZ 85225
For more information call 480-782-2695.

Another Three Star Owl Studio Tour

It’s not every day a big red tour coach pulls up in front of the house to let people off.

Recently an opportunity came my way to take part in a tour series run jointly by Ultimate Art and Cultural Tours and the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art.  The event is the Behind the Scenes Artist Studio Tours, and today two groups of visitors came by Three Star Owl and other studios in the neighborhood to see what we’re up to.

There were Wares available for looking at or buying, the small clear studio space was as buffed and burnished as it gets and open for visitors.  I set up a table just outside its door, and demo’d a large coil owl and stamped raven mugs.  And E had spiffed up the yard and plants to such a degree that ladies were trying to buy some of the cactus with beautiful spring blooms on them right off of his shelves.

Folks marched in the back gate and across the wash, but we had no worries about the groups accidentally disturbing the hummingbird nest — the nestling fledged the day after this post went up!

My thanks to Ace Bailey of Ultimate Art and Cultural Tours and Perrin McEwen of SMOCA for including Three Star Owl in this event.

(All photos E.Shock, cliquez to enlarge)

Posted by Allison on Mar 16th 2011 | Filed in art/clay,Events,three star owl,yard list | Comments Off on Another Three Star Owl Studio Tour

Hen Triumphant!

We’ve been watching a hummingbird Hen — we think she’s an Anna’s (Calypte anna) — on a nest since the middle of February.  Lots of people have passed close to her chosen spot, which was fairly low in a crooked Aleppo pine in our backyard, right over a gravel path through the side of the garden.  There was a big wind storm, and chilly late-winter temperatures.

>> Hummingbird nestling (photo A.Shock; click to embiggen)

But the Hen kept sitting, and we finally saw the results of her diligence: one slightly fluffy, fairly well-grown chick peering out over the edge of the small cup-like nest (see photo above).  There’s going to be one more influx of people in the next couple of days to try its courage.  But at least the weather is warm now, and many more flowers are blooming, including some recovered chuparosa flowers, so when the new little bird fledges, there should be lots of nectar and gnats to learn on.

And, for those who follow this blog regularly, I believe I forgot to mention here the last appearance of the unusual (for Phoenix) male Broad-billed hummingbird in our yard last month.  He stuck around until the 16th of February, and we haven’t seen him since.

In other hummingbird news around the yard, yesterday, March 14, we saw our first-of-season Black-chinned hummingbird (Archilochus alexandri) at one of the feeders.

<< Black-chinned hummingbird magnet (Three Star Owl/A.Shock)

Or rather, saw and heard: the males’ wings produce a whirring zizzz in flight: usually we hear them in the yard before we see them.  These hummers are slender, and the males have a black head which shows a purple swash at the bottom edge along their neck, but only if the light is just right.


Posted by Allison on Mar 15th 2011 | Filed in birds,close in,hummingbirds,increments,natural history,nidification,yard list | Comments (2)

What Happened at Beit Bat Ya’anah: part 1

(Remember, for guaranteed fiction, look for the Pseudopod Waltz logo: “You Never Know Which Foot Is When.”)

This is the first installment of a series. The events take place many years before the “Ganskopf Incident”. Click on the link at the bottom of the page to continue to the next installment.

Wayfarer Arrives:

Deep in the Negev Desert, Israel, in the early 1980s.

After the long flights, with the long layovers, first in Chicago then in Hamburg, the long sherut taxi ride from the airport, and the long, jarring jeep ride from the university, Einer Wayfarer stood overlooking a dry, hot, honeycomb of trenches and pits on the top of a dry, hot ridge in a dry, hot, central Negev valley. Her ankles were swollen, and she badly wanted a glass of wine, and a dim bar to sip it in. The glare of the sunlight off the pale soil hurt her eyes, the heat hurt her nostrils, and Wilson A. Rankle’s droning voice hurt her ears. He was saying something she supposed she should be attending to: “…primarily MBIIa to judge by the pottery, the same date as the walls although we haven’t located a glacis or any major fortifications… the early LBI strata are largely absent here at Beit Bat Ya’anah except in Area D…”

Dr. Wayfarer was a philologist first and only secondarily a historian, and she couldn’t understand why archeologists used so many letter-abbreviations that looked like the names of viruses. Furthermore, she knew little of the history of the Bronze Age – or any other Age, frankly – in the Levant, and was really only here at the behest of her colleague and friend Avsa Szeringka, who had somehow herself managed to remain comfortably ensconced at the Institute near cool, gray Oxford. This, too, was a gray landscape but a harsh, scorched gray, not a muffled cloud-gray. Here cobbles and stones lay like bare bleached bones on the dirt surface, excavated unscientifically by the winds.

She turned to the dig director, hoping that watching his lips move would help her comprehend his monotonous jumble of letters and digits, but she only managed to observe that his comb-over had flopped to the wrong side of his scalp in the hot wind. He was pointing with his hat in his hand, and she wished he would replace it on his cranium; he was pink and sweating and Wayfarer believed he required its floppy brim more for shade than for an ineffectually vague indicator. She looked away again, to be safe: at any moment, the comb-over would flop back, or, worse yet, erect itself like a hoopoe’s crest and stay that way. In her sleep- and shower-deprived state, she could not guarantee her decorum if that occurred.

Finally Wilson A. Rankle stopped talking, stopped waving his hat imprecisely, and smoothing the buoyant flange of hair with a self-conscious and practiced gesture he jammed the hat back onto his head saying, “Well, that’s about it, site-wise. So I suppose you’ll want to see the object now.”

Wayfarer detected peevishness in this flat, ungracious offer. She knew the source of the peevishness, and it sunk him even lower in her estimation. Squinting against the glare, her pale blue eyes didn’t meet his, but she said mildly, “Of course. But first, I’d like to unpack, and, if it isn’t too much trouble, perhaps something to drink?”

He waved a hand to indicate they should follow the goat track back down to camp. “Well, it’s almost tea-time,” he said. “Mikka will have put out mits, biscuits and hot water. Oh, there’s coffee too…”

“Marvelous,” Wayfarer said, not impressed with the standard options of reconstituted juice or hot drinks. “Lead the way.” Sliding a bit unsteadily down the unconsolidated trail behind the archeologist, she was already calculating the least amount of time she could possibly spend on this romp.

To be continued…

To read Part 2 “Tea and Announcements”, click here

Posted by Allison on Mar 12th 2011 | Filed in archaeology,art/clay,artefaux,Beit Bat Ya'anah,pseudopod waltz | Comments (11)

Three Star Owl, Updated events

For those of you who follow Three Star Owl clay studio, I’ve just updated the Events page — it had been neglected, I’m sorry to say — to reflect upcoming shows and sales. I announce them here, but the Events page (click on Events tab on the bar at the top of this page) will take you to what’s in store for the future with one click, with dates, times, and links to the sponsoring Festivals, if appropriate.  A few past events are included, too, at the bottom.

>> Osprey magnet (stoneware, 2.25″X2.25″ $16, A.Shock)

The next bird-related event for Three Star Owl will be The Verde Valley Birding and Nature Festival, at the end of April, in Cottonwood, AZ, affectionately known as “Birdy Verde”, or, sometimes, accidentally, Verde Birdy.  Now, you can check the Events page to see exactly when!

Posted by Allison on Mar 8th 2011 | Filed in art/clay,Events,three star owl | Comments Off on Three Star Owl, Updated events

San Diego is a wrap!

Here’s cheers to all of the Three Star Owl friends and clients who came by, old and new (nice to meet you, Doriot!), to the San Diego Bird Festival this weekend.  And many thanks to Karen Straus and the volunteers and organizers of the San Diego Audubon Society for all of their good care and hard work.

<< wall art, Campland on the Bay (photo A.Shock)

As always, there were fascinating people to meet, new things to do (more on that later — it involves a friend, two raptors, and a jackrabbit!), with the added bonus of barn owls calling overhead last night.  Now it’s time to pack up a soggy wet tent/office (the rain held off until last night), hop in the truck, and head back across the desert to home.

See you next time, San Diego!

Posted by Allison on Mar 7th 2011 | Filed in art/clay,cranky owlet,Events,field trips,three star owl | Comments (1)

Oh say can you KIK…

…by the dawnzerly light?

<< Here’s one of the local Cooper’s hawks preening in the pre-dawn light above my tent “office”.  Every morning at EXACTLY 5:48 by the alarm clock, the pair begins their day by skrekking KIK a couple of solo kiks, then rolling out a long stream of duo kik kik kik kik kik kik kiks.  But the crows are up a few minutes earlier, also clacking and giving their hollow caws. (Side note: crow is okay, but raven is better, if you’re lucky enough to live where it live.  I missed raven when we lived in St. Louis, although there there are two species of crow, American and Fish; it almost makes up for being ravenfree).  The crows are nesting too, and fly into the palms with beakfuls of sticks.

American crow (all photos A.Shock, click to enlarge!) >>

I haven’t had a chance to bird the campground systematically, but casual encounters besides crows and coop’s are yellow-rumped warbler, a common yellow-throat who sings every morning on the other side of the fence, mallards who stroll about the campsites like cats, snapping up dropped hotdog buns and popcorn, a white-crowned sparrow or two, ruby-crowned kinglets scolding fussily overhead, and Anna’s hummingbirds, a hen of which kind was moments ago diligently gathering spiderweb from the plank fence just feet from where I’m eating breakfast.  She took her time — eventually I got the photo on the left. <<

>>Cooper’s hawk in the morning sun.  It was being hassled by the crow above.

Today I’ll be at the San Diego Audubon Festival at the Marina Conference Center on Mission Bay from 11am until 5pm, or maybe a little later.  If you’re in the vicinity, come on by: there’s still both beastie and wazzo wares to check out, and other artists and exhibits to enjoy!

Posted by Allison on Mar 5th 2011 | Filed in birds,Events,field trips,natural history,nidification,three star owl | Comments Off on Oh say can you KIK…

The delights of urban camping

Here is the Office, Three Star Owl‘s nest away from nest on certain roadtrips, complete with cot and a TV tray table that serves as a desk, and a battery-powered lamp or two. <<

And here is the Cooper’s hawk who nests here each time I’ve stayed in this RV Resort.  It’s eating something fairly large, with pink feet — like a pigeon — and feathers and tiny shreds of meat are dropping down onto the empty campsite below.  Attracted by the predatory event, a gang of crows is circling, cawking, but the Coop’s is plucking calmly. >>

From 11am to 5pm on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, I’ll be at the San Diego Audubon Bird Festival in the Marina Conference Center on Mission Bay in San Diego, with wazzo-ware and beastie-ware in small but delectable quantities.  Come on by!

Posted by Allison on Mar 2nd 2011 | Filed in art/clay,birds,Events,field trips,natural history,three star owl | Comments (2)

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