Over the Garden Fence: Superstitions may lead to 'hitting the wall'
There is no way on this earth that "prognosticator" could define me. Predicting the future with special knowledge is not my forte. That is why on New Year's Eve when we dined out, my choice was a special of the evening, a lobster crepe. Creamy, with cheese, onions and herbs, it seemed so right.
New Year's Day the intention of pork and sauerkraut, the Pennsylvania Dutch tradition, did not happen. Looking back, it would have promised me better luck. On New Year's Day the washer was loaded with a dark load of shirts and slacks. It wasn't until unloading that the discovery that two sticks of gum had been on the ride was evident. Strewn in fragments of clinging pale green and blue foil the gum hung on for its dear life to each garment inside and out. After two hours of patient plucking, a reload in cold water brought some control. Another two hours for fewer pieces of gum-picking and I rested. Human oversight, that's all.
Two days later in conversation with a friend I was told that you must be careful in selecting a New Year's Eve food. Always eat meat from an animal that moves forward not backward or sideways. Charming those superstitions which come down through centuries. Just interesting. I held my breath.
In a breakthrough moment, my daughter's plea to invest in a new vegetable peeler found me purchasing one with a black handle and a shield across the blade. That should have been a clear warning. It was not until the last potato as I bore down hard that tragedy struck. At either end of that blade was a wee rise. As it was pulled over with pressure downward, my left middle finger sustained a gouge. The bleeding was immediate and immense. The first bandage was flooded with blood. It took salve, a cotton ball and a Band-Aid the length of my finger to settle things. This was left in place, stinging for several days. I even made an emery board splint.
With all that is in me, I resisted the thought that eating the wrong food on New Year's Eve had led to a series of really lousy events. "Stupidity is what is in place here", my brain clarified. Once this thought tickled my brain: "Where is Martha Stewart when I need her?"
Knowing a smidge about lobster behavior I reflected on my consumption of a sideways moving critter, which also does some backing up. Epiphany came and went in peace.
Then early this week while replacing a light bulb, a spare was shoved up into a sleeve from which it had not come. Dumb! The LED compact fluorescent spiral was carried into the bathroom on an unrelated errand and became history as it slid to its death on the tile floor. Far flung chards vexed my spirit for a half hour. Fragments were now in my dark socks. Off those came.
That lobster as delicious as it had been had delivered me into this saga, to the shores of despair.
Next year, if I make it, the meal will have a forward moving fish. Might tuck some scales into my purse for luck. At midnight as the clock strikes 12 times I will consume a grape on each gong and make a wish. Lentils will be scarfed down and long, long noodles slurped.
Wait. In rereading the thought about lobster, it is about being eaten on New Year's Day — not the eve. Hmmm. The craft beer is more likely the culprit. Liquor and alcohol destroy brain cells. That explains my series of unsavory events. My noggin is not functioning well.
Still, life is good.
Mary Lee Minor is a member of the Earth, Wind and Flowers Garden Club, an accredited master gardener, a flower show judge for the Ohio Association of Garden Clubs and a former sixth grade teacher.
This article originally appeared on Bucyrus Telegraph-Forum: A New Year's food superstition and personal mishaps
