When I was young one of my uncles was very superstitious. There were a whole raft of things he wouldn’t do at certain times unless in possession of his lucky rabbit’s foot. (I kid you not.) But at the top of his list was always the dreaded Friday the 13th. On that blighted day he wouldn’t even go in to work. With or without his lucky rabbit’s foot. (What the poor bloody rabbit was supposed to do I can’t imagine. I suppose his luck had run out a long time before…)

Every year at Christmas he would get hold of the next year’s calendar and go through it, feverishly checking to see how many times the thirteenth of the month fell on a Friday. And on those days he would shift from his kitchen, no matter what anyone said to him. He simply wouldn’t set foot outside the door if he could help it.

So why do we fear this day? Some say it’s because Friday the 13th was the day when all the Knights Templar were arrested across Europe. Others hark back to Biblical themes. Personally I’ve got my suspicions about certain days being unlucky. There are certainly days when there’s ‘something in the air’ but I usually put them down to sunspot activity. At least, I do when I’m feeling charitable.

Something might cause some days to be unluckier than others but I’m still not convinced that Friday the 13th is one of those. It’s just a date after all. One day in a long line of others. A day like any other.

So unlike my uncle, I don’t worry too much about going out of doors or driving the car today. Just so long as I can remember where I put that lucky rabbit’s foot…