With today being Friday the 13th, I'm reminded of my Grandad Woodruff.
Grandad was very superstitious. V.E.R.Y. superstitious.
He wouldn't travel on Friday the 13th. It was bad luck. I remember when one of my cousins was getting married. Her wedding was on a Saturday--the 14th. Grandma and Grandad drove up on Thursday, the 12th, because he wouldn't drive on the 13th.
He also wouldn't start any new projects on a Friday either. He always said that if you started a project on a Friday, you'd never finish it. So, he made sure he never started anything on Friday.
I'm sure that Grandad got his superstitions from his mother. She had some pretty interesting ideas. Not sure if they'd be considered superstitions, but she definitely had her ideas about things.
Like...after giving birth, she insisted that my Grandma (her daughter-in-law) stay perfectly flat in bed for 10 days. Otherwise, all her internal organs would fall out. (Yeah, makes me scratch my head in wonder too.)
Being superstitious was probably Grandad's only fault. Well that and not liking Green Beans. Oh, and making me not eat meringue for years because he told me they were calf slobbers and then he went on and explained how Grandma had stood outside next to the calf, holding the pie under the calf's chin, catching his slobbers. He was so serious, and I could so easily visualize her doing that! Needless to say, I didn't eat meringue for a very long time. But, other than those few things...my Grandad was just about perfect.