Frankly, Friday the 13th had nothing on me this year... hobbling around with a broken bone caused indirectly by an almost all-black cat. One would hope I'd be just about out of bad luck. I say "hope" because if I say I am then, well, it's not quite midnight yet. Still early enough to jinx myself.
I don't put much stock in superstitions so I purposely go out of my way to avoid them. Oh wait, that does sound a little stitious.
Let's just say I had my usual casual Friday... a stop at the walk-in clinic on the way to work to seek pain management help, then a full work day waddling around the office (and appreciating elevators and escalators), then out for fish with our friends across the street. You know. Just a normal Friday.
After hearing of unlucky family members dealing with flooded basements after yesterday's rains came – north and west, not here – I was hoping this Friday the 13th would be remembered for a long, steady rain. Ball players and race car drivers wouldn't be happy. But the grass would rejoice. My flowers would gasp for a drink and smile. And our neighbors – and all farmers in our area – would breathe a sigh of relief.
But of course, that sounds too good for Friday the 13th. Hopefully Saturday the 14th will deliver.
I would like to just put my feet up (doctor's orders anyway) and watch it unfold. I'll just keep that almost-black cat from walking under a ladder or, heaven forbid, my recliner.
Fingers crossed... salt thrown over shoulder... good night.
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