Cinco Centavos


Okay, one of the interesting things I've refound amongst my stuff has to be the 1959 Mexican five cent coin in the pen cup this morning. I used to have a large number of old(-ish) coins when I was younger, high school era. I don't know what happened to most of them. They might be in my foreign-coins jar, which is packed away in a box in the garage at the moment. I remember having this coin, but really have no idea how it ended up in the pen cup. It's one of my favorite coins, though. I might need to start carrying it around next to the loonie that I carry with me everywhere, the one that Jonathan gave me a couple years ago.

Front side of the centavos:


Back side of the centavos:


And with scale (go, Troggie!):

Troggie and cinco centavos

Excitement on a Sunday morning


Yeah, that's right, an exciting Sunday morning includes going through pens and discarding the ones that don't work any longer.

Pen markings

Asking the right questions


Six years ago, my mother's husband's sister died. Really, though, it's easier to just say, "An aunt of mine died."

An aunt of mine died. There. I said it that way.

She died.

One of the things that annoyed me most about her death, I mean, aside from the whole death thing itself, was the callous nature of the dissemination of her death. Look, I understand that her death was "unnatural," and I understand that sugar coating what happened doesn't change what happened, but it's still hard when a loved one passes away and people are callous about the whole thing.

(Wow, my site is all about death recently. Maybe a "Kitt, better to embrace life going forward than mourn its loss looking backward" is in order.)