In season one of BBC’s The Detectorists (spoiler alert), Andy and Lance end up in quite the dispute when Andy decides to dig with Sophie. A big no-no! While I haven’t been detecting as long as many others, I completely related to this moment. (My husband often tells me I laugh way more than anyone should during that show, but that’s neither here nor there.) The point is, once you have a dig partner, a.k.a. my husband, it’s almost imperative that you dig with them and only them. This may not be true of every digging partnership, but there’s almost something sacred and special about it. You question...

My garage is an art gallery. I know that sounds bizarre, but I get this itch whenever a piece of artwork strikes my fancy. I'm not talking artwork from the metropolitan art gallery. I'm talking artwork at the local thrift store, estate sales, garage-sales... people are just giving that stuff away! Most of it ends up hanging on the walls of my garage. There is no real theme, just paintings of all different styles and periods. Actually, I had this one framed lithograph that I wanted to tell you about. The print was nothing fancy, just some adorable kittens with ribbons around their necks attempting...

As soon as the snow on the ground begins to thaw, we get hit with another inch or two. I am so ready for this winter to be over--especially seeing as how I just got a lead on a swimming hole. If you read my blog, you know that I am new to the hobby of metal detecting. Not new to the hobby of historical recovery, but new to the hobby of metal detecting. With that being said, I've never had the pleasure of searching a swimming hole. From what I can read on all the metal detecting forums, swimming holes are a big deal. Anyway, this all started when I received a comment on one of my social...

Winter is my enemy. I see others in the hobby posting pictures of themselves in the snow and I'm over here sipping my coffee by the fire thinking... "I need to be more dedicated." Then I remember the four inches of snow on the ground and I get another cup of coffee and retreat to my spot by the fire. My last hunt of the year was in December. I acquired permission from the owner of the local pool (est. 1920s) which was a popular picnicking spot even before the pool. The property includes a section of creek and some old trees. It also borders the Appalachian Trail, which I had no idea when...

Today was my first time ever using a metal detector! Before embarking on my adventure, I asked my husband for a hat so hunters wouldn't mistake me for a frolicking deer. He found me a hat--an ugly hat--which I refused to wear because I didn't want to look ridiculous. He politely reminded me that I was about to go metal detecting and there really is no way to look not-ridiculous while metal detecting. I do think I pulled it off with my  fur cap and  satchel. Anyway... my fingers are numb. My arm hurts. I have thorns protruding from my flesh. And I am chafing. But I found a few things and I learned...

My family thinks I'm nuts. After all, I am only twenty-six. When they envision a metal detecting hobbyists, they envision some retiree in his early sixties sweeping the beach for spare change. Perhaps in some past life, I was a sixty-something retiree because the prospect of metal detecting is probably the most exciting idea I've had of late--apart from putting my kids in daycare for two more days a week. That was pretty revolutionary. I have been labeled an old soul by strangers, friends, and family.What can I say? I like old stuff. My family playfully suggests that my house is more like...