There are some things in life that I'm kind of weird about. Well, okay, if I'm going to be completely honest with you, there are a whole lotta things in life that I'm weird about (mushrooms, wet clothes, soggy bread...), but this is a goofy one.
Totally irrational, goofy and quirky. I, however, like to think that "quirks" are cute, and therefore, if I am quirky, that must certainly mean I am "cute", right? RIGHT? (You said, "right", right?)
Are you ready to hear it?
For sure, for sure?
And you won't think I'm weird...just "quirky" (and cute), okay?
I don't like to repeat superstitious things.
I guess I'm afraid the superstition gods will frown down upon me spouting off about them and their superstitious whatevertheyare's and unleash their wrath upon me and everyone around me and boy, then I'd have THAT on my head and I just couldn't handle that.
But, I'm gonna take a leap here, and tell you about something, only because I have become rather fascinated about it and think it's pretty dang cool.
So, there is an old Indian Folklore about our town that goes something like this: Long, long ago...on a dark and stormy night, on the 12th day of the 5th month of year of the grasshopper (okay, forget that last bit...I just threw that in for good measure) an Indian Chief pledged to protect our town from natural disaster.
(Courtesy Google Image)
He is buried in the foothills just outside of town, and legend says that as long as his grave is undisturbed, his protection will remain.
One year, as a major state highway was being rerouted outside of town, this Indian Chief's grave was disrupted, and that summer, our town suffered from a terrible flood. Worse than anyone had ever seen.
Since then, his grave has remained untouched. Undisturbed, the old Indian Chief has rested quietly and gone back to protecting our little town.
For quite sometime, I thought this was silly. I didn't pay this little piece of folklore any attention...until I was an adult, more specifically, until the last couple of years, when our storms seem to be worsening.
We saw it last year many times and we watched it happen again last night: A large, angry, violet red cell will be headed right toward our town. We'll get worried, nervous, apprehensive, then, just when it should hit, it breaks up, weakens right around our town, then proceeds to reconvene just east of us...a big red blob again.
And now I'm afraid that this old Indian Chief reads my blog, has seen this post and is going to prove me wrong and let bad storms and natural disasters strike...see?
Why do I say this stuff out loud.
I dunno - I give a little more credence to Indian folklore than most... They had some powerful faith in some powerful juju it seems.
If it were me? I'd go build me a damned fortress over homedude's resting spot.
After the tornadoes down here, I'd give a my left kidney for a creepy old Indian protector to be buried in our neck of the woods.
That's really neat! It makes me wonder if we've got something similar going on over here. I have witnessed many storms breeze right past us, I could seriously see them passing just behind my house instead of over it. I've seen them break apart on the map and reform once they've passed. I think I might have to read up on some local lore!ReplyDelete
OHMYGOSH he is listening!!! Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!ReplyDelete
I totally get it, seriously. My husband accuses me of even trying to superstition (verb) the computer. It's powerful stuff, I tell ya what!
"Big Chief say Pale Haired Woman should not blog about such things. Must go on Dream Quest to yon mountain and find Spirit Animal to guide through storm." LOLReplyDelete
Although, I am kind of with you...I wouldn't dare disturb his grave!