Tonight, I did step down into the basement. Not to photograph the laundry, but to see what other treasures might inspire a few words. (I found a few. That’s what basements and attics are for.)
This is my childhood piggy bank, sitting on a shelf, trying really hard not to disintegrate. As a child, I thought he was creepy. But now I wear a pair of vintage-glasses, through which he looks kinda cute.
Great-Grandmother and Great-Granddaddy Colvin gave us silver dollars for Christmas. The Tooth Fairy left us Kennedy half-dollars. My Christmas dollars and magic money are secure in this feller, along with some silver certificates, which I think were deposits made by Mar Mar and Granddaddy.
As fat as this little piggy bank is, wee wee wee can’t quit our day job.
ginnygram 