|b l o g|
Until I knew misfortune, I didn't have time for things like lucky coins, thankfulness, or humility.
Now, I am a storm's-eye supplicant. I vaguely fancy coins. And, sad that I still scorn humility and thankfulness, I have decided in penance to show to the world (lucky world!) the coin (lucky coin!) I've secretly carried as an amulet these several years. Why should I have kept any secrets? Everything has worked out brilliantly, hasn't it?!
The coin is a 1939 two-shilling piece (obverse, reverse), a physical representative from 'the last good year,' a last year of peace, quiet in the empire, and fifty-percent-silver pocket money. This florin, a real pre-Decimal beauty, has fantastic heft, exquisite lettering, and a positively fair likeness of George VI. When I drop it, it rings like a gun-barrel.
Should my constant, desperate attempts to not lose the florin fail, I have established a line of succession. 1) From 1910, the last year of fan-favourite Edward VII's reign, a half penny (obverse, reverse) from my soldiering great-grandfather's purse. 2) From 1927, the year of, um, the Lindy hop and the People's Liberation Army, a splendidly incused quarter eagle (obverse, reverse)—the first, and probably only, thing I have ever really saved my money for.