Tag Archives: 2p

Back at the keyboard

Actually I’ve been at this damned keyboard every day for the past x months. But back and logged into the Small Change dashboard.

Anyway, here’s a quick breakdown of what small change I’ve found over the 13 months since I first came up with Small Change.

402 days have passed since then. Yesterday I sat down and emptied out my VW campervan moneybox, and did a spot of counting. I’m a terrible counter. I can do it, I understand the whole 1+1=2 business, and even double figures don’t faze me, but I’m a self-doubting counter. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. Or was it 9? Did I already have 9? Hang on, I’ll start again. Ad infibloodynitum. Takes forever. I grit and grind my teeth in exasperation, and I’m sure all that makes things worse. Anyway, after what felt like several hours, I finally got my counting done. The sums afterwards were easy.

Thanks to my calculator.

Ok…I’ve found 166 pennies. A couple are barely recognisable as such, but definitely ARE.

I’ve found 71 two pence pieces.

I’ve found 110 5p pieces.

Sixteen ten pence pieces.

Thirty 20p coins.

Three 50p coins.

Nine pound coins.

So…over 402 days, I picked up 405 coins. The total value?


No, not life-changing on its own. And I know of two jammy buggers who’ve found £20 notes (and yes, kept them for their Small Change kitties despite the obvious temptations), so for all my effort it seems a trifle unfair.

But look at it this way. If ten of us had found that, we’d be looking at £266 for charity. I’ll let you do the other 10x table extrapolations, but the message is clear. One person’s collection mightn’t be so amazing, but the more we spread the word, the greater the combined impact will be…


Hurty eyes

My eyes hurt. They’re tired. I’m tired. One of the problems with being a freelance copywriter is the ebb and flow of work – right now, it’s flow, which is good for the bank balance, but bad for the delineation between working week and weekend, and actually day and night. But I took advantage of the odd hours I kept this weekend to pick my way into town not long after dawn.

Not a bad haul, all in all – 55p, made up from an assortment of coppers, 5ps and 10p pieces. Certainly made it worthwhile. It’s a funny thing though – you’d hope to have the streets to yourself, bar the pigeons pecking at the discarded kebabs, chips and burgers – but people are around. A shrill motorbike disturbed the quiet, a clattering diesel transit, a strange man who was telling either the pigeons or me to f*ck off. I rather resent all that. Strangely, the motorbike more than the abusive oddball…

Earlier in the week I came across odd coinage here and there, so over the week I’ve added another pound or so to the collection.

One day, while sitting outside my usual coffee haunt, a rude boy car drove by, and the passenger shouted out the window: “G – O – O – H!” He seemed to aim this abbreviation in the direction of a nine-foot blonde with shrink-wrapped clothing. What did it mean?! Perhaps he was dyslexic and reading her his personal ad from the lonely hearts column – GSOH. I don’t know…all very odd…