My maternal great-grandparents were born in Dublin, Ireland. So the amount of Irish blood I can claim to be coursing through my veins is perhaps best described as negligible. My first name, Deegan however, is an Anglicized form of the Old Gaelic O’Duibhginn. I figure these two assets give me just enough Irish background to use as an excuse for my belief in some superstitions.
I’m not a true believer in superstitions, but of course, there are some obvious exceptions, things that will keep you safe in life. For instance not cutting your hair on a Sunday, and always making sure you sit down should you return to the house having forgotten something – no dash and run. Spilled salt must be tossed over a shoulder – which one is often debated, and one must leave a building through the same door one entered. All good common sense if you ask me.
If you read this blog you know that recently Montreal’s St. Patrick’s Day parade was forced from its usual route due to roadwork. Not only was it moved, but the direction was flipped from heading east to winding its way west. You may also know that the week following the parade saw one of the city’s best known and largest Irish pubs gutted by a five-alarm fire.
The cause of the fire has yet to be made public, but I won’t be surprised if they find traces of Banshee cloak in the debris. Some spirits just don’t adapt to change.