Change
(May 2026 theme: It only takes one person to make a difference)
It only takes one person to make a difference. The person who has made a difference to our life and to the life of many millions is Sir David Attenborough who has campaigned for decades for the world to make changes. The great Pacific garbage patch where a floating sea of plastic three times the size of France was something he brought to our attention. The loss of wildlife habitat caused by climate change brought on by over use of fossil fuels is another. There are several changes we have made as a result.
We don’t have a dishwasher, so when I wash up, which is most of the time, I fill the kettle with the cool water as I wait for the hot water to arrive from the boiler, saving a few pints of water a day. In the summer when the garden requires regular watering, I supplement the supply from our two rainwater butts, with the water from our washing up bowl, which is fine for some of the shrubs.
Whilst we haven’t made the move to Heat Pumps or solar panels, we do what we can to limit our use of gas and electricity. After moving house 4 years ago we upgraded the boiler to a more modern and efficient one, we replaced the old electric cooking equipment and in addition bought an air fryer, which uses less power to prepare meals. A full roast chicken in 40 minutes, is half the time it would take in a conventional oven.
When we take the car out - an all-electric car - we check that the boot has an adequate supply of shopping bags, so we have no need to buy others. In fact, our trip to the supermarket is often combined with the return of the plastic we have received as packaging for cereals, apples, and loose fruit and vegetables bought in greengrocers and the washed food bags we have used to store food in the freezer. Batteries and ink jet printer cartridges take the same trip.
Every few weeks we make an excuse to visit Teesside Park. It may be to enjoy Wagamama’s Japanese cuisine; to look for new pyjamas in M&S or to run our eye over the new version of the Dyson vacuum. All this is to ensure we can recycle all our medicine blister packs in the recycling point in Boots. I feel that by now we have donated enough of these, that the plastic they contain will have made a set of garden furniture and the aluminium will have been used to form half of the tail fin of an Airbus 350.
We know that our contribution is an immeasurably small amount but it helps. That the next generation is doing their bit was illustrated by the fact that our daughter living in Hampshire visited recently. Amongst her luggage was a box of plastic cartons and tubs. Her council doesn’t recycle these but ours do.
Hopefully these small actions will help to preserve some kind of life for our great granddaughter and those that follow her.
Digging for Treasure
(inspired by October’s theme: Magpie)
Andy parked his van in the field gateway, which was deep enough to ensure that passing traffic was unhindered. Before getting his gear out of the back of the van, he walked to the gate, which looked as though it hadn’t been opened in years. It was held shut by a chain and a padlock. His eyes wandered over the field. The pasture land rose gently to a wooded crest where the trees wore their first splendid spring coat. Away to the right, he could see a track that led to the farmhouse hidden behind the rise. At the far left of the field, probably 400 metres away, was a copse. The boundary between the field and the road was a long-established hedge, in which clumps of primroses displayed their promise of warmer days.
‘Virgin territory, ’ he muttered to himself as he turned to the back of the van to unload his gear.
Freedom Seekers, the metal detectorist club of which Andy was a member, had only recently been granted permission to search this field, and he was fortunate to be the first to explore. He took his kit up to the wooded knoll as though to establish a base camp, and took a preliminary sweep of the area between the knoll and the gate. Returning to the hill, he made himself a drink of tea using hot water from his flask and a Tea Pig Darjeeling tea bag.
Sipping his tea and gazing back down to the road, he observed the grass in the field was quite short as though it had been grazed recently, but now dandelions were dotting the grass with their splendid sunburst. Sporadic traffic, including a post office van and a milk lorry, passed his van at the farm gate. Apart from the raucous conversation of crows from the wood, these motorised murmurings were the only sound. Closer to where he sat, a magpie alighted on the grass, and Andy remembered the rhyme about magpies his partner Beth had told him earlier in the week. Apparently, she was given this as a prompt for the writing group she attends.
‘One for sorrow’, he said to himself. ‘Apt, ’ he thought. It was sad that his detectorist buddy, Ben, couldn’t join him today as he was on call at the dockyard and had to go in. A second magpie joined the first. ‘That’s better, ’ said Andy. It’s joyful having a day off from grabbing bins off the pavement and lugging them up to the back of the wagon.
Finishing his tea, he took a second sweep parallel to the first and got a signal after fifteen minutes. Kneeling and unearthing the object, he revealed what might have been part of a farm implement. He would keep it, and he continued with his search.
After another fruitless hour, he returned to the knoll and settled down to eat his lunch. There would be no surprises. Beth had packed him up with the same stuff she always did, and that suited them both. There was a cheese savoury sandwich with the added bite of spring onion, an apple and a Snickers bar.
At the prospect of food, the magpies reappeared, and this time, another and then another joined them. Andy racked his brain trying to remember the rest of the rhyme after sorrow and joy. It came to him as it rhymed with joy. Three for a girl, four for a boy.
Again, he had a wry smile to himself. Maybe this was telling him about Ben’s expected grandchild, or if there was a boy and a girl, it could be twins. That would give Ben food for thought. At times, Ben was a bit insensitive, going on about his kids and expected grandchild without understanding how hurt Andy felt at times. Try as they had, Andy and Beth had never managed to have children, and the thought of surrogacy or Artificial Insemination was distasteful or too expensive.
The sun disappeared behind a cloud, and a slight breeze rustled the new leaves in the canopy above him. Time to get back to scanning. He decided that he might have better luck if he tried over near where the track started to wind round towards the farmhouse. Almost instantly, he got a response, nothing exciting, just another ring pull to add to his collection of thousands. He continued sweeping backwards and forwards, and noticed an increase in the traffic in the lane. Must be getting on for school time. He glanced at his watch. He promised Beth he would be home for 6, so he would give it another hour, and then head back.
That decision spurred the gods who favour detectorists to reward his efforts. He had several finds, one after the other. First, something that looked like a rider's boot spur, then more ring pulls, an old gate hinge and lastly an old battered tin. After he had carefully worked the earth away from the tin, he sat back and gazed across the field towards the gate. Five magpies were hopping about on the grass.
‘Crikey’, he thought, this must be my lucky day, five for silver, come on, let’s see another one’. No sooner had the thought entered his head than all five magpies flew off.
He returned his attention to the tin and shook it; nothing rattled, so it was just a tin, but what kind of tin? It was dirty, and the lid was bent, but a bit of cleaning revealed the previous contents.
‘Well, if this is the best that this field has to offer, I’m not sure I’ll be back.’
He clambered to his feet and made his way back to his temporary camp. He packed the thermos and lunch box in his rucksack. He had a separate bag for his finds. He added the ring pulls, spur, and other finds and lastly, with a grin, the snuff tin. The maker's name was in a brown and yellow ribbon across the blue and white lid – Silver Dollar.