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Notes on life by a Notebooker Name: Flavia Bertolini Lives: A Londoner born and bred (despite all those vowels in my surname). About me: I own 99 dresses. I am obsessed with hip-hop and pencils (geek). I think I am well funny. Some days my hair is bigger than me.

? Let us know what you think on Twitter at @notebooklive That's bad luck Stir with a knife, stir up strife. Give someone a handkerchief, bring them grief. Step on a crack, break your mother's back. To live and thrive, let a spider run alive. Buy someone shoes, they'll walk away from you(s). And they're just the ones that (mostly) rhyme. If you see a magpie you have to salute it. Black cats are good luck. Robins in the house are a portent of death. Don't put horseshoes up the wrong way. Touch wood. Fingers crossed. Seven years' bad luck. These are just some of the superstitions I know, you may know many more.

Some of them sort of make sense, like breaking a mirror would have been unlucky because in the days of yore, they were expensive. And possibly, not picking up your own glove harks back to times of chivalry when if you had bent over to pick up your own garment, your huge hoopy skirt would have caused you to lose your balance and topple over into a gutterful of horse poop. Perhaps having a peacock feather in the house meant you would have an angry peacock OUTSIDE the house waiting to peck you to death. Putting new shoes on a table might get stains on them and earn you a clip round the ear. And what sane person would walk under a ladder when something might drop on you, or it could snap shut at any moment and slice you in two? Like I said, some have roots in common sense.

But the funny thing about superstitions is that the nonsense ones are perfectly reasonable if they're YOUR superstitions, it's everybody else's that are ridiculous. 'Oh,' we will say, 'in other countries, they think Friday the 17th is unlucky! Hahahaha, what superstitious primitives they are, with their medieval beliefs! It's on Friday the 13th that you are guaranteed to fall down an abandoned mineshaft and have a lunatic with a hockey mask chase you through a graveyard! Everybody knows that!' I don't consider myself superstitious, but if I spill salt, you can bet your cloven hooves I am throwing a pinch over my shoulder to blind the devil. I touch wood (mostly consisting of knocking on my own head, idiotic). If I bang one elbow I bang the other one straightaway, and I'm pretty sure I just made that one up. Like I said, it's all nonsense, but I need all the luck I can get

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Title Annotation:Features
Publication:Sunday Mirror (London, England)
Date:Apr 30, 2017
Words:470
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