My wife and I walk a couple of miles almost every evening after dinner. It gives us a chance to talk privately and uninterrupted by the phone or uninvited guests. We're very private. We've had some great conversations while walking.
We greet the neighbors in our own hood. We live in an older section of town. The houses have nice front porches that are great places to hang out in the evenings. Lots of porch furniture. As we make our way to the half way point of the walk the neighborhood is newer. Most of the homes are part of the post WWII boom years. There are no sidewalks so you have to walk in the street. It is a popular place to walk. The half way point of the walk is an oval shaped road named Bouquin Circle. I've renamed it Penny Lane since we always find pennies there. Bouquin Circle is one of the desirable neighborhoods in the City of Oil City. We live in the Gibson house. There is nothing special about it. It's just who owned the house before we did. When the Gibsons lived there it was the McKenzie house. And so on. When we move it will be known as the Cranium house. "We live on Central Ave. in that gray house near the top of the hill. ""Oh you live in the Cranium house, what a dump that place was."
Near Bouquin Circle
A homeowner about a half block from Bouquin Circle included "near Bouquin Circle" in the description of their home when they were selling. There are three bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, woodburning fireplace, new roof and near Bouquin Circle
. I remember when we bought our house about 13 years ago. Jean, our realtor, was very patient with us. We looked at about 25 places before we decided. Once in a while she practiced part of her sales routine."I can see a nice Newport Blue on these bedroom walls.""That's funny Jean, They look white to me."
know what I mean."When we were looking at the house we finally bought she saw a deacon's bench near the stairs. I think she saw a rose trellis somewhere out in the yard. There was no deacon's bench or rose trellis but there was a pile of quarters on the kitchen counter and right on top was a bicentennial quarter. I like to collect certain coins
. One of my favorites is the bicentennial quarter
. I was tempted to take it and replace it with another but I didn't.
Jean was really, very nice. I don't know if the owners requested near Bouquin Circle or if the realtor suggested it. All I know is we had a good laugh about it.
I happened to know the people who were selling it at the time. I was working under the table for the husband, who was a registered surveyor. My first real job was for a registered surveyor, but that's another story. This guy came home around lunch time one day to the house near Bouquin Circle, and accidentally tracked a little mud into the house. His wife went ballistic. One would think that he tracked in a couple pounds of dog shit by the way she was complaining. He just laughed and went into the bathroom to wash up. I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
"The moderately well to do people of Bouquin Circle would never have mud in their homes and I won't either, I just cleaned in here."
And when we hit Bouquin Circle the pennies start to appear. There are almost always pennies on the street. There were none this evening and we passed up one last night but that isn't always the case. I have found as many as 47 pennies. An older lady who lives on the street once found 122 pennies one morning. We have no idea who is putting them out and why.
At first we would pass them up, but after seeing one after another I thought what the hell and started picking them up from time to time.
"I would love to know who is doing this," my wife said.
I picked up another penny from the middle of the road and slipped it into my pocket. I was up to 14¢ one evening. I spotted another older guy down the road. He stopped and stooped to pick something up. A penny! He's taking our money. I would find eight more that he walked right past. I've walked past them myself.
"There's one," my wife will say.
"Oh yeah, I was just going to pick that up."
Maybe someone has a fetish for people bending over in the street. Well I'm here to entertain. Yes I know, I'm just working for pennies, but if I can make someone happy what the hell.
As we approached the old man he held out his hand and said, "I've got 22 cents."
I had to reciprocate and dug out all the pennies I had in my pocket. I took a moment to count them, "I've got 17."
He started to go on about the pennies on the road. A repeat of many conversations we've had with others and my wife just kept walking. I nodded a few times and slowly began to edge away. He knew what was going on and let me go.
"That's Joe Levi's house," I said.
"Oh... Who's that?" she asked.
"He was our state representative back in the 1970s. He gave me a ride to Harrisburg one Sunday evening. He went down every week. When we got there I offered him some money for gas. He refused, but he did ask me to remember him on election day.
"Did you vote for him?"
"No I didn't. I wasn't registered. But I did remember him."