My mother was a very superstitious woman indeed, and she held her views in high regard. Jees - the crap me and my sisters had to listen to over the years! From funny to scary. And the worst thing was that I was a sensitive child, so tended to believe her in my younger years, as she could get herself worked up over many a thing besides superstition. But it was the more negative, slightly sinister side she seemed to be on guard about.
Crows in different groups and numbers had particular meanings. If a bird flew into a window, it was a sign that bad luck was to reside in the house. Then there was the mating call ( loud clicking like a clock ) of the Death Watch beetle. Hardly heard of these days, back then if one was heard ticking away in the wood of skirting board or walls, it was regarded a prior warning that you would hear of a death of a friend or of family in the near future, lest you be the unfortunate one!
Now, in all seriousness, there became an event a few weeks later that spooked me out considerably. On the day of my first marriage, my fiance's great auntie had died during the night, and my nephew Craig was born in the early hours of the following morning. So hearing of a birth, death and marriage, all connecting in close proximity here was pretty good going and boy - just how perfectly does it fuel those old wive's adages and predictions!
We'd all like to think our luck's in, but I'm confused as to whether or not walking under a ladder in town brought me good or back luck those 27 years ago. You see, I met my husband later that night and I'm pretty sure he'll be puzzling over the same thought. ♥ ?
Of course, over the duration of my life, I've pretty much accepted that superstition is a right load of bollocks. There's little evidence to say otherwise. Then, why oh why, do I still partake in the traits of the belief that superstition may bring. A few examples are: the left hand side of the bed is where I strictly enter and leave, I'll salute to a Magpie if it's on his own, bless myself if I drop cutlery, cross my fingers, knock on wood, pick up pennies, lift my cat's tail and rub my lottery ticket on his fluffy arse, throw slightly cracked mirrors out, etc, and the list goes on. I reckon that it's a fight between coincidence and superstition to try and determine what's really what for us. A tough one, I know. I just - even now - don't know exactly which one I'd put my money on!
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