I'm always interested in why certain posts trigger a lot of emails. The last post certainly did, so I want to reiterate that as far as I know, our building is not for sale. Nor is there a buyout on the horizon.
We are finding money, however. I've hinted and more than hinted that Ginger is keeping off hours, and what this means is she's overwhelmed by all the construction and won't leave the block when the sun is up. She loves the workers and many love her, but the chaos is too much. She's a high energy dog, so she has to get out and run, and this means that Joe has been taking her to the dog run in the middle of the night. Anywhere from 1:00 to 3:00 in the morning she wakes us up, and out they go to play.
We've tried everything to change it and this is what it is right now. I take her out around 6:00 in the morning, sometimes a little later, and we might go to the river or stroll for a walk. Any day now we'll get rid of the middle of the night walk. Any day.
The city is very different at the hours Joe is out. He sees it all, yet he also sees quiet. What we both see, however, whether it's 2:00 in the morning or 6:00 in the morning, is what people lose.
Over a year ago, we were all out for an early morning family walk and there, on the quiet sidewalk, was a fifty, folded neatly in half. A few months later I found a twenty, then Joe found a twenty.
This winter, sitting neatly on the fresh snow, I found another twenty. A few months ago I was wrangling Ginger up Mercer Street and on the middle step of a stoop was a pretty gold elephant charm on a tangled thin gold chain. I could almost see the graceful girl who may have been wearing it, maybe sitting with a guy after their date. Maybe she was nervously playing with the elephant and didn't realize she loosened a loop on the chain.
I found an amazing pair of bisque lamps once with Ginger and after we came home I went back out to get them. We've met groups of twenty-somethings who were so well dressed and so high that when they bent over to pet Ginger, vials of white powder fell out of their top pockets.
Walking Ginger we pass keys, sweaters, scarfs, pants. I once found a pile of Manolo Blahnik shoes, right shoe only, size 11. Two months ago I found a wallet, and when I tracked down the owner he was so relieved to get it back he wanted to do a drawing of Ginger as a thank you. I didn't want a reward, but how could I say no to that?
We have a ceramic tray we put Ginger's money in and last year she bought herself a beautiful winter coat. This year she might buy herself a car harness or a flotation vest. If she finds another twenty, we might even monogram it.