Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Cross Your Fingers

I like even numbers.  Odd numbers leave me with a vague feeling of unease.  Since I have little else to do while milking, I count the number of squeezes required to empty an udder.  I'm not permitted to cheat, but I'm always happier when I finish up on an even number.  Reflecting on this quirk of mine yesterday (Inga finished up on 239, drat), I got to thinking about the omens and portents of my childhood.

My mother passed on many of the old sayings from her mother and grandmother (grossmutter, since she had come from Germany).  They were universal at the time, and some are still in use.  Who among us does not cross our fingers (symbol of a crucifix) for luck?  My sister is a big proponent of "knock on wood."  All kids knew that if they stepped on a crack, they'd break their mother's back.  I grew up avoiding cracks in the sidewalk (unless I was really, really mad at my mother - you didn't hear this from me).  A sneeze required someone to say "Gesundheit;" now replaced with "Bless you."  Black cats got a bad rap; rational people were known to cross the road or even turn around if a black cat went across their path.  Not walking under ladders just made good sense, but why a broken mirror had the power to inflict seven years of bad luck is beyond me.  My mother could read signs in the silverware.  If a knife dropped on the floor, it meant a man would visit.  A dropped fork foretold a woman would come, and a spoon meant it would be a child.  It was my job to set the table, and it didn't count if I dropped anything on purpose; I was always tempting fate.  I grew up knowing that dirty underwear almost guaranteed a terrible accident and everyone at the hospital would know about my lack of hygiene.  I never understood why anyone would put on dirty underwear in the first place, but the threat was enough to put on clean britches.

It's a reflex now to say "Bless you" to even a passing stranger who sneezes; I can't help myself.  I like black cats as well as any other, and have had two of my own.  I do look up for paint cans or hammers before passing under a ladder, but will walk under them with impunity.  I know, however, that if I get a green signal at a certain traffic light on my way, the appointment, interview, or shopping trip will go well.  If I win a game of solitaire on the first try, it will be a good day.  And I like even numbers.

1 comment:

Kathryn said...

A fellow I almost was engaged to wanted 2, 4, or 6 children because he wanted an even table (He was one of 4.), and I find I don't care for the dates that end in 3 and 9 - 9 especially, but 1, 5, and 7 are ok for me. I'm afraid I would have squeezed one more time with Inga...just in case 240 worked!