Monday Night… Part 1…

I am a Treasure Hunter with a Metal Detector & an aspiring Writer…

No serious, i have been called an inspirational writer, & an aspiring writer or the actual words were  “from a treasure hunter to someone with greater writings & musings” serious, if i was not there, honest i would not have believed it myself, the shame of it is, no one was recording it… I do not know who was more embarrassed me or the T2, and all of that because of Treasure Hunting, so first let me explain exactly how that came about…

Monday Night…

It all started on a Monday Night, I know that sounds like something from a secret meeting of Metal Detectorists Anonymous,  looking for a cure to try extinguish that undeniable itch you cannot scratch, it’s in your brain somewhere, but that itch is always, just out of reach, & for the life of you, it cannot be scratched, this though is not that particular branch of meeting nor has it got anything to do with club meets, dig meets, secret code of coil shakers etc… but it does involve women !T2 (5)

When you’re standing in front of forty odd women who all represents everything about being a matriarch, I did feel like I was standing in front of forty or more mums, as an errant schoolboy; so why, what & how, well i attended my third ever meeting with the WI…

Also this had nothing to do with me joining the WI, on the pretence of gender equality, the first was twenty something years ago, the second about five years later, with the third on Monday night as a Q & A, i think age has something to do with me being scared,  as being stared at by forty or so pairs of eyes watching you, waiting wondering what on earth this Oik was doing, standing there looking guilty as sin, & to make matters worse, I arrived late by five minutes, as a point of explanation i had popped over to the tenant farmer to pick up some potatoes as I was asked too, and he kept me talking, ok so it was MUDDYHERITAGE50 (2)partly my fault, but I was excused, as I claimed impunity due to the potato run, which was accepted, I did omit that I was given another farm to metal detect on some twenty odd miles away, which kept me talking to the farmer about, anyway admittedly i was being selfish, as to me it was worth being late, plus the ladies were happy at the end of the evening  as they had there sacks of potatoes, not only delivered to the meeting but also loaded into their cars I might add…

so I am here as I survived to tell the tale of how it all started, by back tracking slightly we can see how it all started. Now i am one of those people who keep knocking on doors to try and gain metal detecting permission  [- but if the farmers only knew the golden key to me being kept away was to say “ I already have someone” I would politely thank them and go -] anyway I was seeking permission to metal detect on this particular farm, after talking with this lovely man who farmed this land, but after a brief chat which was courteous, he politely informed me he was only the tenant farmer & to gain permission i would have to go & seek permission from the landowner, which i duly did…

 

After about two weeks of just missing him, I caught up with the farm manager who gave me a firm no, later a few days later i got a phone call from the landowner, asking why i needed an appointment, and could it not be dealt with by the manager when he got back from his holiday, i could have seized the opportunity there and then and blatantly lied about not seeing the manager, but, just but, i bit my tongue & told the truth, in a roundabout way, i started the conversation with why i needed the appointment, as metal detecting was my hobby, what i had found, the research i had completed with old photos of this particular farm, what i expected to find, insurance, contracts & as i was just getting into my full waffle-stride, he cut me off in mid flow, come down now, and bring with you what you think i need to look at, erm-this was the bit i dreaded, so without a second thought, well more of a reaction really [- instead of i had better do it now, rather than later -] i blurted out, i did speak to your manager, but he said no – then there was that dreaded silence, that silence everyone knows, that silence where you can hear a clock ticking away, somewhere…

Fred’s End Note…

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