I’m Fine. Really, I’m Just Fine

The church we attend is the descendant of Copley Parish, one of the churches founded by Queen Anne of England in 1692. The building originally stood several miles away, and the church followed the parishioners as the looked for greener – or at least less rocky – pastures. There was a church built on this site in the early 1700s, although the entire business was moved to Kingsville around 1811. The present church was built in 1974.

So – for the last several months, folks from the Harford County Historical Society and the Smithsonian have been conducting an archeological dig on the property. Grids have been marked, holes have been dug, dirt has been sifted, and ground-penetrating radar has been used. We have also been droned,

The Squire spent most of today – most of the last couple of weeks, as a matter of fact – pitching in with the work. Today he spent most of the day over there, and called me around 3:30 to say he was absolutely exhausted, and the rest of the team had told him to go home before he fell over. When he got in, I told him to go take a shower and I would start dinner. He said he wanted to take the recycling out to the road first, but he looked so awful I tried to shoo him into the bathroom, with a promise that I would take care of the wheelie bin. Next thing I know, Blaser is outside, barking his head off.

And The Squire is out like a light on the carport. He’d been trying to do something to the wheelie bin, lost his balance, and fallen over. He’d smacked him forehead, and has a goose egg, but he assured me I did NOT have to rush him to the hospital or call the clergy. He did go take that shower, and is now looking pale and interesting in the recliner, with an ice pack and a warm blanket.

I have crept in several times to make sure he’s still breathing, but all seems to be well in the kingdom.