Do you have the Force?

The boy still has a few secrets. Some are dark and perverse, others may be made public. Thirty years ago a friend, another former Marine told me about his water dowsing and his searches for Ley Lines. I am open minded and listened, it was interesting information from a chap who is not prone to tree hugging, swaying in wet woolly jumpers around a smoking fire at the winter solstice or generally a weirdo. I, for example do not believe that the cheap piece of machine formed glass hanging in your front window does you any good, alternatively it doesn’t hurt you and may even make you feel wonderful. (Incoming - duck!)

Robert dug out two brass rods he had purchased to make some brass hinge pins, bent them at 90º and went out to play. Well, Holy Mary Mother of Wiley Coyote, it worked. I have the “ism.” I was able to locate water pipes, electricity cables and so on. In this main picture you can see the rods crossed. I’m not holding them, deliberately, they are free, just supported by my index fingers. Beneath the ground is our mains water supply and electricity supply. 

My brother in law, as he was then, was a Bullshitter of the first high water, a Persian/American. As a reservist he had joined the USMC and gone through their Boot Camp system. Suddenly he was promoted to Sgt, given a sword, the whole shooting match, never seen action or nasty enemies. Yet he had medals. Then he went back to working for Daddy. My sister called one day and told me they had a leak in their mains and could she suggest anything. As I was close by I went over with my rods, our erstwhile hero was scoffing, huffing and puffing in the background, generally being a pain in the botty. Within minutes I had marked out the lines of their water system with chalk. Then I closed in on an area that was giving out strong signals but over a wide area six by six feet. 

His turn…..”Dig boy, tell me what you find!” So he dug and dug, swearing profusely and getting muddy, but more importantly, wet! About four feet down he found a clay pipe, it was split in several places and water was gushing when a loo was flushed. At this point I became a Shaman and he backed away as if I was the Devil in jeans and T shirt. Victory. Stupid dullard had been parking his very heavy Beemer on the same spot on a gravel driveway for years, weight equals disaster for clay pipes under loose soil and gravel. It was saddening in a way to watch a fellow Marine turn into a gibbering, scared fool as he backed away refusing to believe his own eyes.

The Garden Fairy and friends do not have the “ism,” by simply placing my hand on their hand or touching their neck the rods will, of their own accord swing and cross. That has caused people to scream and I believe, but have no proof, wet their pants.

PS He had to pay for the repair as it was on their property. 

Extra, the tools of the trade.