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LindaHilton

Linda Hilton

Reader, Writer, Merciless Reviewer and Incurable Romantic

Currently reading

All the President's Men
Carl Bernstein, Bob Woodward
Women's Gothic and Romantic Fiction: A Reference Guide (American Popular Culture)
Kay Mussell
Progress: 17/157 pages
The Looking-Glass Portrait
Linda Hilton
Really Neat Rocks: A casual introduction to the rocks & gems of Arizona and the lapidary arts
Linda Hilton
Progress: 61/61 pages
Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith
Jon Krakauer
The Power of Myth
Joseph Campbell, Bill Moyers
Progress: 20 %

I'm not superstitious, but . . . .

Really, I'm not.  I don't believe in omens or bad luck or good luck.  None of that.

 

When I was still living at home with my parents, roughly early to mid-1960s, I discovered that our front yard had a bizarre patch of clover.  Lots of lawns in the Midwest had clover mixed in with the bluegrass and crabgrass, so this was nothing unusual.  Well, it wouldn't have been unusual except for the fact that this particular patch yielded four-leaf clovers by the dozens.  And a few with five leaves.  Even one with six leaves!  I picked lots of them, neatly pressed them in little bits of waxed paper in my Bible.

 

(Maybe the conjunction of two superstitions cancelled each other out?)

 

Some 50 years later, I still have them, though most are too fragile even to photograph.  And as I discovered a few minutes ago, the Bible itself isn't in much better shape!

 

 

The upper leaf has five full leaflets.

 

 

The lower looks like five, but in fact has only -- only! -- four.

 

 

The clover patch is long gone.  It was next to the gravel driveway and probably lost when my parents paved it.  At any rate, no more four-leaf clovers, but I don't believe in that stuff anyway.

 

Two days ago, I was coming out of the grocery store and saw a bright shiny penny on the pavement next to my car.  Of course I picked it up.  Good luck, right?  But I'm not superstitious!!  (Just poor enough not to pass up a penny.)  Did I have good luck Wednesday?  Well, not anything to be noticeable.  Nothing happened to resolve all the difficulties I'm still having with my website.  I didn't get any big fat orders in my Etsy shop. 

 

But I did make a new connection on Facebook relative to the Etsy shop, and tangentially relative to my writing.  (We don't talk about how that has languished.)  Of course I didn't ascribe any of that to the shiny penny I picked up in the parking lot, because I don't believe in omens and good luck charms.

 

As a result of the connection I'd made on Facebook, however, I took a grand leap and created a new "group" there, which at the time consisted of a whole two of us.  I realized I didn't even know how to add people to the group!  But I posted a generic invitation on my Timeline and waited to see what, if anything, would happen.

 

The first response came this morning, from a woman I graduated high school with almost 50 years ago and with whom I had not had any contact at all for almost 25 years.  Strangely enough, our contact even then was brief and connected to my writing career, yet that was almost the first thing she asked me about . . . today.

 

I am not superstitious.  Never mind that the mountain in my front yard is Superstition Mountain.

 

 

Oh, but there's more.  Another connection from this almost forgotten past has just been made.  I don't even know for sure exactly what it is, but it is there.  It happened while I was writing this blog post.  It's a thread, perhaps too finely spun to be visible, from that fragile tapestry of my writing.

 

I'm not superstitious.  I don't believe in omens.  Really and truly I don't.