the jug

When we returned from camping there was a letter from the county.

I recognized the name and knew it was trouble. We don’t make enough money to pay income taxes, but we have a home and it is subject to property taxes. The last two years, because of our age and income, the state has helped with our property taxes, but this was for the year before that.

The note from the county said that if I did not pay in full by next Monday they would add $500 to the tab.

So I began to scrounge. For a decade or so I have been throwing change in a jug. Some years back Miriam rolled a good bit of it. We rolled the rest, made a hit on our savings account, and boom.

Miriam helped me and we got it all into the bank -- it was heavy. The smiling teller pulled out a fist full of aluminum trays and we began stacking rolls of coins.

When it was all over, the kind teller handed me a stack of General Grants ($50 bills for the rest of you) in exchange for a check made out to “cash.”

The court house is just 3 blocks away, so that stack of bills was in my possession an amazingly short length of time.

But thanks to the change jug and a bit of savings we are even now.

Now to make peace with the irrigation water company.