The sweet silence of success

My time in Minnesota was a huge success in at least one respect: there's no change jangling around in my pocket. I brought over with me a huge pile of American coins that Stace had recklessly accumulated over the summer, and I managed to spend every last penny while I was here.

It was pretty scary this morning. I had 48 cents in my pocket, and I needed to buy a newspaper that cost 50 cents. If I had to break a dollar bill, it would mean two extra quarters in my pocket along with the 48 cents that I already had. Disaster was looming. It was with considerable trepidation that I approached the counter this morning looking for one of those "take a penny, leave a penny" trays. I looked on the left side of the counter, and my heart sank--there was a tray, but it was empty. Resigned to defeat, I happened to glance at the right side of the counter, and hope was renewed. There was a tray, and it was full of pennies. I happily grabbed two pennies, gave the cashier my other three pennies, two dimes, and one quarter, and walked away with my newspaper in my hand and no coins in my pocket.

I can now head to the airport this afternoon satisfied that once again, all the hassle of flying across the ocean and putting up with the miserable Minnesota weather was worth it. My pockets are light.