Gracie has been out all morning, a sure sign of a nice day, and she’s right. The sun is shining and the sky is blue, a deep blue. It’s a little chilly still but warmer than it’s been. I’ve been out on the deck a couple of times just to survey the world and watch Gracie romp through the yard. When I was out, I noticed fill the bird feeders must be put on my to-do list.

Today is Friday the 13th. I have never been superstitious so it’s just another date for me, but I admit I never walk under ladders. That, however, has more to do with the possibility of paint falling on me than anything else. I don’t think I have any phobias either. Spiders eat insects so they’re okay in my book. Bats do the same thing, and I even have a bat house in my yard. I don’t mind mice which are well and lively, but I’m not big on mice which seem to be close to their heavenly rewards. I call my friend Tony for those. I’ve never thrown salt over my shoulder, have broken a few mirrors in my day and have a black cat named Maddie who crosses my path constantly. I may be tempting the fates to some, but I don’t need to clutter my mind with a variety of fears. I remember being afraid of the atomic bomb, a fear caused by all those duck and cover practices, but that was a long time ago.

I went looking and found some very interesting and some very strange phobias. Rhytiphobia is the fear of getting wrinkles. If I had that one, it  would have reared its head a long time ago. My face has character is the way I describe it. Wrinkles have nothing to do with it. Clinophobia is the fear of going to bed. From the number of naps I’ve enjoyed over the years and continue to enjoy, I know I don’t have that one. My favorite phobia is zemmiphobia or a fear of the Great Mole Rat. That one, I suspect, is pretty uncommon.

In case you have a burning desire to know, the fear of Friday the 13th is called friggatriskaidekaphobia or paraskevidekatriaphobia. Now go walk under a ladder, spill some salt, open your umbrella inside the house and enjoy the day!