“Greek pottery that was also found in the tomb helped us safely date the whole burial to 360-370 BC.” —taken from a recent article in the Times Colonist.

For sometime now this thought has been going through my mind: what will happen in centuries to come, when anthropologists and archaeologists begin to try and understand our culture. If it comes down to the close examination of my kitchen midden, they will be in deep doo-doo.

A kitchen midden is a domestic waste dump. Not too romantic. I can recall when I was very young, standing at the edge of a ravine behind the historic family farm house with my aunt and grandmother who were at the time, if I recall correctly,  triumphantly burning an errant house mouse in the garbage barrel.  Down the ravine below the burn barrel there an avalanche of household refuse, the un-burnable kind, thrown there in the days before weekly garbage pickup in the country.

There were mainly those brown apothecary-type vials, many still containing remnants of previous poisons, and assorted rusted tins. I wanted to rummage through this historical graveyard, but was wisely held off by my aunt who was more concerned about the current state of my tetanus vaccination!

Of course now, most of our history is going out with the trash, or being recycled or composted. We could leave this world without a proper midden! It is this thought that keeps me awake at nights.

And so I have begun to create my own kitchen midden; a burial ground for favourite but, alas, broken beyond repair dishes and assorted pottery; a place I can both mourn the loss of favourite pieces of china and create my own record in trash.  Of course I realize that this will be a somewhat subjective midden.

There in lies the major fault with my whole scheme: anyone looking at my trash will determine that once upon a time, a Chinese/Italian/British/Japanese/Irish/Gabriolan family lived on this land.

I can see the final report from the archaeologists now: “The only conclusion that must be reached is that at one time, explorers from the Middle East, Indonesia, and China may have travelled to this island once known as Gabriola. The rather unusual juxtaposition of seeds and spices such as cardamom and dill; oregano and clove indicate a strangely multi-disciplinary cooking style. There is evidence, as seen in the shards of pottery similar to those found in parts of the world as far flung as what were once the British Isles, Italy, and Japan, that the population of this tiny Gulf Island must have been direct descendants of these older civilizations. There is also conflicting evidence regarding their level of sophistication, as seen from the variety of kitchen tools; some extremely primitive, while others appearing highly advanced. “

In other words, it could set the history of the world back centuries!

Jordan was somewhat concerned when he discovered what I had planned for this small plot of land outside the kitchen door. He made me swear that I wouldn’t break anything on purpose. He needn’t worry; raising two sons and owning an assortment of cats in the past 30 years has left me with many a broken tea cup and vase.

Over the years, I have saved many of my favourite pieces, even though they no longer can perform their original function; a teapot becomes a holder for kitchen gadgets; a saucer without its cup becomes a lovely candle holder or flower pot liner. The seriously fractured bits were kept just in case I one day discovered I had talent to make a mosaic table top.

 I long ago decided that there was no use crying over spilt milk, although there were times that the loss of particularly special bowl, especially by my own clumsy hands, has made me weep. That is why I am so pleased with my kitchen midden idea. I am consoled that I can still enjoy the beauty of these lovely fragments from my life as well as leave a permanent record of me.

 But I am still somewhat concerned about the future history of the world. Whenever I read about any new finding of an ancient village, one say in South America from 50 gazillion years ago, and the conclusion is reached that these villagers were descended from the inhabitants of Siberia because they used the same cooking pots, I have to wonder: what if one day, they just decided to take an Alaskan cruise and brought back souvenirs?