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While I sit here looking out the window as I devour my cheese grits (non-greasy variety), a southern USA delicacy, I contemplate the bamboo vine(smilax).  It’s growing through a space between the bottom half of the window raised up 1 1/2 feet to accommodate an Air Conditioner I don’t want or need.  

I’d ask my husband to take the-thing-that-makes-me-cold out of the window, but the last time that happened my beloved Chelsaddog needed it during her remaining few months of life as she progressively lost her battle with cancer.  

It’s easy to see how superstitions start.  Tis illogical, I know.  But the part of me that needs to rely on pattern recognition to make decisions when I’m in the forest/jungle worried about being eaten by a bear/leopard is telling me, “Don’t do it or the Gentle Giant is next!”

If that’s all it took to change…