AND FINALLY
Detect the fun when life disappoints
HOW terrific that a metal detectorist is set to make thousands after turning up fragments of an Iron Age chariot in Wales.
The news made me smile, for a few weeks ago we were contacted by another detectorist for permission to wave his special ‘wand’ over our land.
We have four fields and I’ve often wondered if they hold any secrets. ‘There’s a man coming to look for buried treasure’ I told grandson Barney, six, who lives on this homestead too. He looked suitably excited; I could almost see cartoon pound signs in his wide eyes.
So Chris, the detectorist, came twice and wandered around in terrible weather, doing his thing. There was a Roman road near here; I imagined gold jewellery, weapon fragments or at least a coin or two.
But now the pitiful haul is proudly displayed on the stone table near our front door.
It consists of one fork (not silver!), two bottle tops, a pony club badge, a small piece of chunky chain, ten old drink can pull tabs, odd bits of metal (not gold!), a Midland Ambulance Corps badge and a doll’s arm wedged in a bit of metal. Wow!
Always a realist, I was entertained rather than disappointed. And we extracted what interest we could: ‘Did you know’ asked my husband, ‘that they stopped using these ring pulls in the Seventies?’
I didn’t, but reminded him of an organisation (bottletop.org) which employs people in Brazil and Africa to make stylish accessories out of bottle tops.
Not enough here! What’s more, those funny worthless fragments reminded me of how we have to cope with everyday disappointments. You know, you build yourself up to the job interview, the special date, the family event or (in my case) the book publication . . . only to be disappointed. No treasure.
All you can do is extract a lesson from the experience and wait for the next chance.
My husband asked Chris: ‘Does this happen often?’ ‘Every time!’ he said cheerily, as he packed his magic wand away.
Bel answers readers’ questions on emotional and relationship problems each week. Write to Bel Mooney, Daily Mail, 2 Derry Street, london W8 5TT, or email bel.mooney@dailymail.co.uk. Names are changed to protect identities. Bel reads all letters but regrets she cannot enter into personal correspondence.