Happy Friday the 13th! Don’t walk under ladders, safe guard your mirrors, stay off the cracks if you value your mother’s back and throw that salt over your shoulder, right after you knock on wood. I’m wearing an older pair of pilled “work around the house” socks today. These feature brown and gray kitties — not a black cat in the lot (unless it’s hiding in the background). I was a fairly superstitious kid. If I think about it, most of my superstitions had to deal what would happen if I broke a routine, sort of a lesser type of OCD like Sheldon Cooper on the Big Bang Theory TV show. Like my socks, my former superstitions became old and worn as I grew up. In our family, we follow Christmas traditions, routines that we’ve created or that have been handed down through the families, in order to make the holidays special. That’s the difference between superstitions and traditions. Superstition safeguards personal misbeliefs. Tradition enhances community. I prefer traditions. Forget Friday the 13th and bad luck. Remember, instead, Wednesday the 25th, and the birth of our communal good fortune. Merry Christmas!
Thoughts, Socks and Jots 