I talk to dead people. Now--hang on a second--before you call the loony bin and have me committed, you should hear me out... I talk to dead people, but the dead people don't always talk back. I mean, sometimes they do. Sometimes they give me a nudge in the right direction. Sometimes they whisper through a gust of wind. Sometimes they manifest as a crow perched in tree--constantly heckling and shouting commands. Granted, this is usually when I'm all by myself at some abandoned homestead--with no one to confirm the phenomena--but I assure you that I'm not making this stuff up. Yesterday was a horrible...

Some women enjoy weeding their flower beds and poking around in their vegetable gardens. I prefer digging for treasure. I reap more reward from pulling a two-hundred-year-old coin from the ground than I do a carrot. Don't get me wrong, carrots are tasty and all... but can you display them in a shadow box and brag to all your facebook friends? Well... I guess that depends on your facebook friends. If I started posting carrots in the metal detecting groups, I might lose a few of those friends. I guess through writing my blog and sharing my perspective, I've sort of been launched into the spotlight....