Arkie John
Active member
I see that Linda has dutifully introduced you to the latest adventure. If you have a little time, allow me to rewind for just a spell sos you can get a little more of a grip on the situation.
I pulled up to the old home place and parked. Seeing no one around, I knocked on the door--no answer. Now I had come 40 miles and really wanted to give the place another go-round, so I did what any self-respecting individual would do. I went into the woods anyway but not before leaving a note, as follows: "Hello, my name is John Garrett. I grew up here on this property. I attempted to you but no one was home. I am in the woods behind the house and shall return about dark. I hope you will not mind me parking here for awhile. However if you need get in touch with me, please call XXX-XXXX. Thanks so much, John
With that I grabbed the yeller feller and sharp-shooter shovel and headed out. I got some good mid-tone readings along the old trail to the gravel pit and stopped to dig a couple. It was at that time that I accidentally unearthed the old green-glass bottle. It tugged at my heart, being found not 100 yards from Momma's back door step. "Yup, she surely used this stuff to make us kids well-a great find." The cap had long since rusted away but the bottle was beautiful to me.
I meandered on up the trail finding little. I got to where I buried a treasure so long ago and STILL did not find it. I just KNOW Gary Carter came back a couple of days later and unearthed my crystal and pocket change I buried that day in a 4"X4"X4" pine box, when I was 9 or 10. I kept looking as the shadows lengthened. I was having a good time, all to myself.
I did get to go places I never have searched before and found several memorial pennies. One had an imprint where a BB, fired from a pellet gun had almost pierced through the back side of it. The result was that I could feel ole' Abe's nose protruding from the front. What a find! Maybe Tome did it after I was long removed from the ole' pit. Who knows! I searched the old hut sites, the old road where boys would bring their girls in their cars and fool around. I envisioned loose change being dropped as they hustled around after the "act." No dice.
It was solitude at its best. Then I caught something out of the corner of my left eye. It was somebody runnin' toward me--heck it was Linda, but in an unnatural state. She was huffing and puffin like she had just run a 440 and had an absolutely wild-eyed look on her face...and no detector. She could barely speak.
At this time, I remembered Tom's story about the wine and the pistol and the rooster. I caught myself looking her over real good to make sure she had none of the item just mentioned.
Finally she settled down a bit and told me of the encounter with Mr. Azzhole and how she didn't want me to be surprised by his belligerence and whup up on him etc., etc., etc. I assured her that there would be no fisticuffs as I was having too good of a time...that the ole' boy would either have to get mad or get glad, but that I was not going to let him spoil my fun.
Convinced, she gave me a hug and a kiss and said, "Now Johnboy, you call me whenever you get through here." "OK, Sis." And she was on her way back down the hill to her little "go to hell" car.
I stayed until I could see no longer and began working my way back toward the vehicle. As I approached I saw Mr. Personality standing on his side porch waiting for the encounter. I went on up and approached as if nothing was going on at all. He came forward and met me at the car as I unshouldered the metal detector.
Now, folks, I don't know how to say this any other way. Honestly, he was the nicest feller I had talked to in a long time. He introduced himself as I didn likewise. We shook hands and began to talk of the trip to the woods. He told me all about "the woman" that came to his drive way...and of the police. I interrupted him and said, "if you were upset, why didn't you simply call me? Oh! You probably tried but since I had headphones on, I probably missed your call." He just grinned. It disarmed him completely. After all was said and done of the ten-minute conversation, he invited me back anytime I wanted.
We shook hands again and parted ways. As I turned out of his driveway, I rang up Linda and told her how nice he was to me. She was just beside herself. "Musta been a man thang, 'cause he sure was an azzhole to me--a real azzhole." I just politely told her that maybe she needed to brush up on her 'people' skills a little. Oooo, that didn't set well. So, I backed off and said maybe she had already taken all the starch out of him and the last thing he wanted to do was to have another issue with another Garrett on the same day. I wouldn't wish that on anybody. So there you have it. Almost.
In closing, I really doubt that I shall ever return to the gravel pit. It's just a deep, deep feeling way down deep inside. It's like, it has run it course wit me. However, I never say "never."
I gave the bottle to Linda for a reason. "Oh, don't you want it Johnboy?" "Naw, you keep it Sis. Clean it up, write a neat little note about it and spindle the paper up and stick in it the bottle, then place the bottle on one of your shelves in the Cartwright Room. It will always remind you of this time."
If nothing else, that part--the interaction with Linda and me--made it really, really worth while. I'm here to tell you that treasure is not necessarily found with a metal detector.
Thanks y'all for comin' along. We'll do it again soon. I do SO enjoy this forum! <><
aj
I pulled up to the old home place and parked. Seeing no one around, I knocked on the door--no answer. Now I had come 40 miles and really wanted to give the place another go-round, so I did what any self-respecting individual would do. I went into the woods anyway but not before leaving a note, as follows: "Hello, my name is John Garrett. I grew up here on this property. I attempted to you but no one was home. I am in the woods behind the house and shall return about dark. I hope you will not mind me parking here for awhile. However if you need get in touch with me, please call XXX-XXXX. Thanks so much, John
With that I grabbed the yeller feller and sharp-shooter shovel and headed out. I got some good mid-tone readings along the old trail to the gravel pit and stopped to dig a couple. It was at that time that I accidentally unearthed the old green-glass bottle. It tugged at my heart, being found not 100 yards from Momma's back door step. "Yup, she surely used this stuff to make us kids well-a great find." The cap had long since rusted away but the bottle was beautiful to me.
I meandered on up the trail finding little. I got to where I buried a treasure so long ago and STILL did not find it. I just KNOW Gary Carter came back a couple of days later and unearthed my crystal and pocket change I buried that day in a 4"X4"X4" pine box, when I was 9 or 10. I kept looking as the shadows lengthened. I was having a good time, all to myself.
I did get to go places I never have searched before and found several memorial pennies. One had an imprint where a BB, fired from a pellet gun had almost pierced through the back side of it. The result was that I could feel ole' Abe's nose protruding from the front. What a find! Maybe Tome did it after I was long removed from the ole' pit. Who knows! I searched the old hut sites, the old road where boys would bring their girls in their cars and fool around. I envisioned loose change being dropped as they hustled around after the "act." No dice.
It was solitude at its best. Then I caught something out of the corner of my left eye. It was somebody runnin' toward me--heck it was Linda, but in an unnatural state. She was huffing and puffin like she had just run a 440 and had an absolutely wild-eyed look on her face...and no detector. She could barely speak.
At this time, I remembered Tom's story about the wine and the pistol and the rooster. I caught myself looking her over real good to make sure she had none of the item just mentioned.
Finally she settled down a bit and told me of the encounter with Mr. Azzhole and how she didn't want me to be surprised by his belligerence and whup up on him etc., etc., etc. I assured her that there would be no fisticuffs as I was having too good of a time...that the ole' boy would either have to get mad or get glad, but that I was not going to let him spoil my fun.Convinced, she gave me a hug and a kiss and said, "Now Johnboy, you call me whenever you get through here." "OK, Sis." And she was on her way back down the hill to her little "go to hell" car.
I stayed until I could see no longer and began working my way back toward the vehicle. As I approached I saw Mr. Personality standing on his side porch waiting for the encounter. I went on up and approached as if nothing was going on at all. He came forward and met me at the car as I unshouldered the metal detector.
Now, folks, I don't know how to say this any other way. Honestly, he was the nicest feller I had talked to in a long time. He introduced himself as I didn likewise. We shook hands and began to talk of the trip to the woods. He told me all about "the woman" that came to his drive way...and of the police. I interrupted him and said, "if you were upset, why didn't you simply call me? Oh! You probably tried but since I had headphones on, I probably missed your call." He just grinned. It disarmed him completely. After all was said and done of the ten-minute conversation, he invited me back anytime I wanted.
We shook hands again and parted ways. As I turned out of his driveway, I rang up Linda and told her how nice he was to me. She was just beside herself. "Musta been a man thang, 'cause he sure was an azzhole to me--a real azzhole." I just politely told her that maybe she needed to brush up on her 'people' skills a little.
Oooo, that didn't set well. So, I backed off and said maybe she had already taken all the starch out of him and the last thing he wanted to do was to have another issue with another Garrett on the same day. I wouldn't wish that on anybody. So there you have it. Almost.In closing, I really doubt that I shall ever return to the gravel pit. It's just a deep, deep feeling way down deep inside. It's like, it has run it course wit me. However, I never say "never."
I gave the bottle to Linda for a reason. "Oh, don't you want it Johnboy?" "Naw, you keep it Sis. Clean it up, write a neat little note about it and spindle the paper up and stick in it the bottle, then place the bottle on one of your shelves in the Cartwright Room. It will always remind you of this time."
If nothing else, that part--the interaction with Linda and me--made it really, really worth while. I'm here to tell you that treasure is not necessarily found with a metal detector.
Thanks y'all for comin' along. We'll do it again soon. I do SO enjoy this forum! <><
aj
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