Post by Leslie Sarkany on Jun 11, 2016 13:30:45 GMT -5
GAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Darn the super for using the whipper snipper at quarter after ten in the morning. Just got to bed at 0710hrs. Got up and saw the dishes on the counter. I have a propensity for dropping or breaking dishes when doing them. Marie has not caught on......just left them, grabbed a Freedom 3 and left Dodge.
Back to School
Weekend so the schoolyards seemed to be the logical place to get quota. Hit one that I knew was penny rich. Quota is quota! Pennies indeed start a popping with great regularity....wish I was. Anyway in the zone. Nice to hunt a place that was not full of litter.
Flashback...I get no respect
While in the zone my mind meandered back tooooooooooooooooooooooo.........................it started as soon as I exited the womb and the doctor slapped both of my faces. Dad took a photo of the event which Maw later turned into a poster that promoted me as the poster child for birth control. I get no respect. Mom knew from the onset that I was different. That she had given birth to a full blown digaholic. This fact was nurtured and cultivated by sending me out at an early age to play with "Puddles" who would dig holes which I would crawl into to be buried. Didn't hurt that maw tied a bone to my leg so that Puddles would play with me. I get no respect. Mom's suspicions of my "ailment" were reinforced repeatedly as I would go fishing and bring the catch home to be buried in Grandpa's garden much to his dismay and to the delight of the local feline population that could be heard in the garden each night. My hands were always in the dirt. I would uproot wild plants, flowers and whatever and plant them in my own little patch.
It was only later in life that it dawned on me why my mother always wanted to move to Yellowknife NWT where for months at a time there was 24 hour a day sunlight. "Leslie go out and play and don't come home till it gets dark." I get no respect.
First tool for the Digaholic
Still in my sleep depraved flashback I recalled delivering the morning and evening papers as well as working odd jobs to get my first detector..........a Garrett which to this day I cannot recall the model. Still to this day I am swinging the Garretts and not coming back till dark..............
Back into the dig
Snapped out of my flashback. 8 coins to go for quota.....wood chip playground part of the school....foreign coins. Counted my take.oops 5 over quota. Debated with myself over whether I should go for a century (100 coins) or go home before dark and make spaghetti...momma mea!
Back to School
Weekend so the schoolyards seemed to be the logical place to get quota. Hit one that I knew was penny rich. Quota is quota! Pennies indeed start a popping with great regularity....wish I was. Anyway in the zone. Nice to hunt a place that was not full of litter.
Flashback...I get no respect
While in the zone my mind meandered back tooooooooooooooooooooooo.........................it started as soon as I exited the womb and the doctor slapped both of my faces. Dad took a photo of the event which Maw later turned into a poster that promoted me as the poster child for birth control. I get no respect. Mom knew from the onset that I was different. That she had given birth to a full blown digaholic. This fact was nurtured and cultivated by sending me out at an early age to play with "Puddles" who would dig holes which I would crawl into to be buried. Didn't hurt that maw tied a bone to my leg so that Puddles would play with me. I get no respect. Mom's suspicions of my "ailment" were reinforced repeatedly as I would go fishing and bring the catch home to be buried in Grandpa's garden much to his dismay and to the delight of the local feline population that could be heard in the garden each night. My hands were always in the dirt. I would uproot wild plants, flowers and whatever and plant them in my own little patch.
It was only later in life that it dawned on me why my mother always wanted to move to Yellowknife NWT where for months at a time there was 24 hour a day sunlight. "Leslie go out and play and don't come home till it gets dark." I get no respect.
First tool for the Digaholic
Still in my sleep depraved flashback I recalled delivering the morning and evening papers as well as working odd jobs to get my first detector..........a Garrett which to this day I cannot recall the model. Still to this day I am swinging the Garretts and not coming back till dark..............
Back into the dig
Snapped out of my flashback. 8 coins to go for quota.....wood chip playground part of the school....foreign coins. Counted my take.oops 5 over quota. Debated with myself over whether I should go for a century (100 coins) or go home before dark and make spaghetti...momma mea!
