So where do these things come from? I mean, I know this thing hasn't been in circulation all this time.

We finished up our last shift at the concessions stand at the Fairgrounds today. A moderately short shift, as we didn't start until a little before noon, and were out of there by 18:45.

It was the mud bogs.

Took a lot longer to set up and run than expected. Last night's crew, in true LDS fashion, just assumed, naturally, that there wouldn't be anyone working on a Sunday. And so stripped down a bunch of equipment for cleaning.

A kindness for the crew that would be conming in on Monday to mop up and clean, leaving the stand ready for next summer. But a lot of extra work for us, as we had to reclean almost everything, then put it all back together again to use it.

Thank the powers that be that they didn't empty the grease out of the friers. But we would like to know why there were french fry shards in the corndog frier. (Well, okay, we do know. Saturday night was the demolition derby, and that car crowd is big on cheese fries. I'm sure they had all three friers going full time to make fries. Probably nuked the rare corndog orders.)

Greatest disappointment was the absence of batter for funnel cakes.

Yes, we added funnel cakes to the menu this year. Something I would have mentioned in last weekend's entry about the Fair, if I had ever gotten it written. Although, the folks in charge of our operation called them "Swirl" cakes.

Anyone else out there ever heard these things called "Swirl" cakes before?

We hadn't. "Swirl cakes" are those dense, packaged pound cakes with chocolate cake swirled in that you buy at the truck stops to soak up the coffee you're drinking on a long drive.

Who would pay three bucks for one of those?

Our first shift, the wife was running around to all the menus and posters advertising the new treat and writing "Funnel" over "Swirl".

Funny how we sold so many on that second day, and the other crews sold almost none on the first.

So today, when I had my heart and taste buds set on a funnel cake, there would be none.

Sold out.

Musta been a hit with the automobile crowd. Kinda fun, since we had to convince the organizers that this would be a money-making idea.

Anyway, enough rambling. Back to the starting idea of this entry. As I was finishing the dishes (actually more like pans, pumps and baskets), the wife comes back after emptying the money drawer.

Asking if someone owes us a nickel, because she found this funny copper-coloured coin in the nickel tray.

It looks familiar,unlike the other foreign coin a friend mentioned last weekend as he watched me cook his burger. I offered to replace the quarter he thought he was getting, but he decided to keep the foreign one.

No idea if that was a financially smart move, or not.

But anyway, I take the funny copper coin from the wife's hand, and wipe it clean. Enough to see the Indian head. And the year.

1899.

An 1899 American Indian head copper coin.

I immediately pocketed it, but she charged at me with the same determined look she used on the drunk cowboy last Friday, so I allowed her to pick my pocket without protest.

(Eldest son, the numismatic of the family, says it's a nickel, badly worn.)

But how did that end up here?

Some kid kype it from their Dad's collection and spend it, thinking it's only worth a nickel?

I haven't looked it up. In its condition, maybe it is only worth face value. But I doubt it. I would have paid the wife a quarter for it. (Even offered, but she turned me down without giving my bid any serious consideration at all.)

Somebody redistributing ill-gotten wealth? Or generously dispersing their grandfather's estate? I mean, we know this hasn't been in circulation. So who put it there?

Either way, I'm jealous of the wife.

But not too much.

Last year, I was the one who noticed the funny red ink on the Lincoln bill.

A silver certificate, rather than a five-dollar bill. Been almost 25 years since I saw one of those pass through my hands. That one, I'm betting someone was spending a cache that had been saved.

It's in with my state quarters.