Even though the money’s been counted, it’s still at my friend Linda’s house along with some other things I haven’t moved to my new place. Also still at Linda’s is the old vase in which I keep my finds, a gift from my daughter when she was very young. Abby found it in the “free” box at a yard sale. (That’s my girl!)
I’ve been using an old plastic container for all the coins I’ve picked up since Jan. 1. It doesn’t have the soul of that vase, which is actually pretty ghastly: fthe color of a Pepto Bismol tablet left out in the sun, embellished with gilt and bearing a painting of what looks like a 17th-century dude courting a 17th-century dame. But it was a gift from my kid, and I treasure it. Perhaps my descendants will take it to “Antiques Roadshow” and find out it’s worth a million bucks.
Last year’s final tally:
- Six $1 bills
- One 50-cent piece
- 15 quarters
- 71 dimes
- 22 nickels
- 286 pennies
I also found a single Canadian dime, which I’ll add to my stash. Who knows? I may drive the Al-Can again some day.
So far this year I’ve picked up only 54 cents. Since moving to Anchorage I’ve walked through far fewer commercial areas. On the other hand, I may find a lot of coins on the bike path once the snow melts.
No matter where I find them, I’ll pick them up. As I explained in “Filthy lucre,” my found coins extend my giving dollars. I round them up, though; the $21.31 that I found became a $50 donation to the Food Bank of Alaska.
According to Feeding America (formerly America’s Second Harvest), $1 will buy the ingredients for eight meals. I remind myself of that every time I hesitate to pick up a coin.