Pretty Money

We actually found time for a vacation this year. We went to a Canadian lakeside resort that forces people to relax by simmering them into limp-pasta pliability in several hot spring pools. It's kind of miraculous--even stressed-out Young Geezer stopped bouncing off of walls by the second day. It's taken 24 hours for my fingertips to stop looking like prunes, but it was so worth it!

Yes, I'm back, sort of. My head isn't quite ready to admit the vacation is over. The weather gods smiled upon us; they gave us glorious sunny warm days (which they owed us, after trying to freeze and drown us most of the summer.) We basked; we soaked, we napped, and we read our books. I even shopped, which is something I don't ususally enjoy. I think it had something to do with the Canadian money.

Spending monochromatic greenbacks always feels like serious business. Those scowling dead presidents fairly shout: "Be prudent! Spend wisely!" I bet those old guys are rolling in their graves since we've started adding tiny bits of color and shine to our bills.

Canadian money, on the other hand, is like a little party in your wallet. Pinks, mauves, artwork, sparkly things--who wouldn't feel good about spending it? And how serious can you be when you're paying for things with "loonies" and "twoonies"? I didn't even try.

I have a few Canadian bills left. I'll put them in our Canadian money jar for our next trip--but not yet. I'm going to admire the pretty money a little more, before I sigh and go back to the scowling old guys.