bigscoop
Gold Member
- Jun 4, 2010
- 13,379
- 8,708
- Detector(s) used
- Older blue Excal with full mods, Equinox 800.
- Primary Interest:
- All Treasure Hunting
Today I sat down to write 1000 word article on beach hunting, it's -7 outside. In fact, I just got back from carrying some firewood inside, not exactly a beach hunting atmosphere. So there I sat, in front of the computer watching the courser blink at me, all I could see was the white page and it was making me shiver. All I could think about was snow.
It's a mental thing, I know, but try as I did I simply couldn't turn all that white into warm beach sand. I felt like I was stuck in a blizzard, the dog and cat looking up at me with concerned eyes. On most days the dog is always willing to go outside but today it even refused to chase a leftover ham bone out the front door. A 1000 word article on beach hunting. Are they kidding. I drove twenty-six miles today, the van was finally getting warm when I pulled back into the driveway.
I suppose I could write about how badly I miss the beach and its seventy-degree winter temperatures. I suppose I could say that I'd give anything to be somewhat chilled in my wetsuit. Today I had so many layers of clothes on I felt like a freezing Eskimo. Who in the world would ask an Eskimo to write a 1000 word article about beach hunting? Ice fishing, maybe, but beach hunting?
I made chilli this afternoon, the thick kind with sliced mushrooms, diced tomatoes and onions and green peppers, a little ground beef, and just enough spice to make the nose run. My nose was running when I went outside to gather the firewood, a few minutes later the hair follicles in my nose were frozen. Had I made the right choice in coming to this frigid place for the winter?
When I brought the firewood inside I was greeted by my three year old granddaughter, big bright eyes and that tiny warm smile. “Grandpa,” she said, “you look like an iceman.” Yep! I made the right choice. “Priceless!”
It's a mental thing, I know, but try as I did I simply couldn't turn all that white into warm beach sand. I felt like I was stuck in a blizzard, the dog and cat looking up at me with concerned eyes. On most days the dog is always willing to go outside but today it even refused to chase a leftover ham bone out the front door. A 1000 word article on beach hunting. Are they kidding. I drove twenty-six miles today, the van was finally getting warm when I pulled back into the driveway.
I suppose I could write about how badly I miss the beach and its seventy-degree winter temperatures. I suppose I could say that I'd give anything to be somewhat chilled in my wetsuit. Today I had so many layers of clothes on I felt like a freezing Eskimo. Who in the world would ask an Eskimo to write a 1000 word article about beach hunting? Ice fishing, maybe, but beach hunting?
I made chilli this afternoon, the thick kind with sliced mushrooms, diced tomatoes and onions and green peppers, a little ground beef, and just enough spice to make the nose run. My nose was running when I went outside to gather the firewood, a few minutes later the hair follicles in my nose were frozen. Had I made the right choice in coming to this frigid place for the winter?
When I brought the firewood inside I was greeted by my three year old granddaughter, big bright eyes and that tiny warm smile. “Grandpa,” she said, “you look like an iceman.” Yep! I made the right choice. “Priceless!”
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