#the detectorists

Also, you might enjoy their version (with Julie Fowlis) of the Great Silkie of Sule Skerry: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LabjOVVv9oI

(Both videos are on youtube if the links don't survive the asking process!)

The Unthanks run singing weekends on the Northumbrian coast - I've been on a couple of them. A rather touching thing Becky and Rachel Unthank (the sisters at the heart of the band) told us on one of the weekends is that they had sung together pretty much every day since they were old enough to sing, so when Becky went away to university it was very hard on both of them. They would phone each other up most days just so they could sing together down the phone line.

Oh hey, I’ve never written on this blog and it’s almost a decade old. 👋🏻

so it’s 1:45am and I can’t sleep because I’m thinking- you know what, a Sandman/Detectorists crossover fic would be amazing- cute and gentle. If you’ve not seen The Detectorists (Mackenzie Crook and Toby Jones show) off you go and treat yourself- it is all things good.

Anyway, so Hob’s got money stashed all over the place, probably in banks and offshore accounts, sure, but also PROBABLY he’s secreted caches in random places around the country. Got to be prepared for every eventuality after all. AND there’s hoards all over the place in the U.K., seemingly. We’re not talking on a par with the Staffordshire hoard or that one discovered in Norfolk last year, but it’s not a paltry sum that Hob’s got buried, and for some reason, he really needs it, or something from it, now.

So I figure this treasure is somewhere in the Danebury vicinity, except Hob doesn’t remember precisely *where*. It’s been a good few centuries: memories fade and landscapes change. So he joins the DMDC, because how else does one find buried treasure than by metal detecting?

as far as plot goes, that’s it (this is why I’m not a writer 😂). I just want to provide the opportunity for Hob to introduce himself and for Terry to say “Hob… Hob. An appropriately medieval moniker.” In a genially approving manner. And for Hob to go for pints at the Two Brewers with Lance and Andy. And for Dream to overhear Lance’s little speech to Andy re-what a Detectorist is: “See, archaeologists, they gather up the facts, piece the jigsaw together, work out how we lived and find the buildings we lived in, but what we do is... that's different. We unearth the scattered memories, mine for stories, fill in the personality. Detectorists. We're time travellers.” And to raise an eyebrow in mild approval. I don’t know why Dream’s there, that’s for someone else to figure out.

And that magpie that goes around stealing the treasure? That’s 100% Matthew’s role in all this.

I would call it something from the lyrics of Johnny Flynn’s theme song, and pepper it with expansive descriptions of the bucolic beauty of Essex in the late summer.