Friday, September 23, 2016
When my pet cat died when I was 12, I buried the penny with Taffy. Taffy was my best friend. Taffy gave me so much in life, I felt like I had to give him something in death, and what else would a 12 year old have that meant so much?
I've never regretted it. Still I missed the magic of carrying that penny, and while a penny at age 47 isn't probably as magical as it is at 12 --- when I found this Victorian penny (from 1901) and it already had a hole in it -- I couldn't resist. I've put it on a lobster call and it's gonna be the zipper pull for my light jacket. Let the luck commence.