Penny in Your Shoe

Someone asked me why I have a penny in my shoe. I was told that it may bring prosperity.

One of the women who told me this has a very nice home with lovely art on the walls. It appeared to have worked for her. This doesn’t seem too difficult to do, I thought, I can do this. Now I have a tiny metal reminder clinking around my left toe, or sometimes it works its way down towards the side of my arch.

Sometimes I might fish around the bottom of my purse, find a penny and force unsuspecting friends to sneak one into their shoes.

Why not get all the help you can get?

Has it worked you may ask? Are you wealthy yet? I have to tell you – it is beginning to work.

Each time I grow weary of some endeavor or another the tiny tapping of the coin reminds me to keep at it. Finish this job and on to the next, because money is important. And I know those of you who have money, may interject, “No no! It is not important at all” But I believe it is important. We must have money to buy food to eat, we must pay the mortgage. That little piece of metal is my daily reminder to keep moving forward, keep learning new things.

“Keep at it,” says that bit of copper rubbing my skin.

There is a lot of interesting history on those clunky looking penny loafer shoes. They were made to store a penny in a little pocket on the top.  This money was so that teenagers would be able to call their parents from a phone booth! How quaint. First, it was a penny, then it was meant to hold a dime. Now, kids shoes would have a little opening for their expensive thousand dollar cell phones, the shoes could be called grand loafers. Inflation is tough.

Click on the link below to see more of Sonya Clark’s artwork and not just shoes made out of pennies.

Sisterhood of the Travelling Lumber Jacket




We have a family jacket that was inherited from someone’s grandpa. It was deemed too unattractive by their own family and I must agree. It is brown and puffy and looks as though it was worn by that famous lumberjack from the  Canadian short film The Log Driver’s Waltz.

The jacket is perfect in many ways. It is thick enough that you can put it on to chop kindling and the splinters can’t break through the fabric. It is puffy and warm and it is the first thing you grab when you have to run out in the middle of a dark night when a storm drops something on your roof and you must investigate. It is the first jacket anyone grabs to walk the dog and then to clean up after her.

And just like sisterhood of the travelling pants; just like Lena, Bridget, Carmen and Tibby—  quite magically, it fits us all equally. Except it the case of our travelling lumberjacket we all look equally unattractive wearing it.

Sometimes when I am cleaning out our hall closet, I look at this lumpy jacket and think, I should get rid of it- but I can’t. It is our family jacket, passed down from another clan of ugly jacket wearers. In fact there may be a twin out there somewhere in BC right now, thrown on quickly over cold shoulders, on the way to shovel their driveway.

I can’t recall how many years we have kept this piece of Canadiana style, but I will tell you it still has many years left in it. And just maybe, if we hang onto it long enough, it may become a fashion statement of some kind. Lumbersexuals beware!




Click the link below for the National Film Board of Canada’s

Log Driver’s Waltz