In Search of a Pot of Gold

Oops. I'm honestly not arrogant enough to believe that a picture of myself drunkenly celebrating St Patrick's Day is a post in itself. I'm just struggling to come to terms with a new app.

So, lucky charms. Unlike Allison I am slightly superstitious; I avoid walking under ladders and always throw salt over my left shoulder if I spill any. And I never put new shoes on the table. Mostly because I rarely have enough money to buy new shoes. But even if I did there would be no new footwear on tables.

And despite leaving religion behind me a fair while ago, I still sport a St Christopher whenever I travel abroad, though I think this is largely due to the knowledge that I know it will put my mother's mind at rest.

Aside from the above, I also subscribe to a selection of quirks and rituals that are mine alone.

Take socks for example. For Christmas I was given seven pairs of socks, each one with a day of the week on them. Now, I'm no fan of novelty garments such as these, but if I know I'm going somewhere where my shoes will stay on my feet, I see no harm in wearing them. One thing I will never do, however, is wear Monday's socks on the day for which they are intended. It's the same for the other days - if I do wear a pair of these socks, I'll make sure they don't display the correct day of the week. For some reason, it feels luckier this way.

I'll leave you with a bizarre superstition my mother grew up practicing: every time she saw an ambulance, she had to 'touch [her] collar, never swallow, until [she saw] a dog. Forgive the teeny abbreviation, but WTF? I should add that when spoken with a true Essex accent, 'collar' rhymes with 'swallow'. Not that thy explains anything, of course. But hey, whatever makes you feel better, and luckier, can't be that bad can it?