DON’T WHISTLE IN G’PA’S BARN, SNICKLEFRITZ! (And other old wives’ tales and names) by Carrie Ranworth

 

Did your grandma ever call you a Snicklefritz when you were a little kid? Mine did. (And Whippersnapper, Dingleberry, and a few others.)  Did your grandpa warn you not to whistle in his barn?  Mine did.   I thought my old people were cool but a little strange and superstitious.  Here’s why.

 I grew up in an era when special names and superstitions were common.  Bombs were falling over Europe, Hitler was on the march, men and women were contributing to the cause of freedom by enlisting in WW2, and I was a squirmy, mischievous little kid singing “Don’t sit under the Apple Tree” while sitting under the apple tree.  (I sat under there and practiced my whistling!) Mom often used special names like Snicklefritz to call me out from under that tree so I could wash up for supper.

 Snicklefritz….I think it’s Pennsylvania Dutch and means “a mischievous child.”  Our family wasn’t Pennsylvania Dutch but the name fit the kids in our family.  We’d never been to Pennsylvania but I was told I talked very “dutchy” when I was little so maybe that’s where the connection is.  Also, I always wanted to wear a pair of wooden shoes when I was little.  I liked how they clickety-clacked.   But I can tell you the truth that we were full of mischievousness.  My younger sister was much worse than I was, though.  She’s old, now, but still superstitious!

Superstitions! Every household had their favorites.  Don’t place your pillowcases on the bed with the openings facing the bedroom door or ghosts will flow out and get you!  Don’t step on a crack or you will break your mother’s back!  Don’t go out the back door and then come in the front or you will conjure up bad visitors.  And never proceed to walk forward if a black cat crosses your path!!  I think, in those days, that’s how they controlled us busy Whippersnappers.  I’ve never really been superstitious, myself…..

Come to think of it, though, last week a black cat crossed the street right in front of my car.  I admit to feeling a twinge of nervousness.  I know I’ll not have bad luck because of it, though.  The cat just wanted to get to the other side, kind of like the chicken crossing the road joke.  No harm, no fowl.  (Pardon the pun.)

Let me tell you about my grandpa’s barn.  It was a magical place.  It’s where he milked his five fascinating cows.  Bessie, Alva, Minnie, Susie, and Sis.  We kids weren’t allowed in the barn except at milking time.  It was so exciting, grandpa let us watch.  We were town kids and didn’t know much.  We were also of the age when kids were practicing whistling.  Whistling was hard! Especially for me since my speech was “dutchy.”

 

 Grandpa had two rules.  We had to watch from behind the barn door through a peep hole for the cows to enter the barnstalls.   So….no spooking the cows was rule number one.  The other rule was NO WHISTLING in the barn.  I tried to practice whistling regularly because everyone else did and I wanted to get really good at it.  Sometimes I would get enough of a sound out that a bird would answer.  I never got good enough to startle a lot of people, though.  The reason we weren’t allowed to whistle in the barn was because doing so would call up the devil and ruin the milk.  Who would want that!

 

I was raised to believe that one (me) must work hard to earn a living.  Some people don’t seem to have to work much…….take people who have psoriasis (a heartbreaking itchy disease of the skin) in the palm of their left hand!  Their hands would itch all the time and they’d  get lots of money.  You’re out of luck, though, if your right hand itches.  That’s what causes money to flow right out of your pocket.  Of course, you could just drop a book on the floor.  That will get you some money, too.

I was warned not to kiss a toad or I would get warts.  I didn’t want warts!  All I could see was that big wart on the nose of the wicked witch of the west in “Wizard of Oz”.  Besides, who would kiss a toad anyway and how would you catch one?

I guess the superstition that puzzles me the most if about serving a whole fish.  Do you like fresh caught whole fish served on a platter at your table?  Be careful!  If you turn the fish over, the fisherman and his boat will capsize and he’ll drowned.  I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that mess!  I think that’s why I’m not too fond of eating fish.

It’s time to go fix a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch.  I’ve only given you a taste of what the old timers in my past considered to be just possibly more than an old wives tale. (They WERE superstitious.)  But I’m not.  If I get warts it’s just because I’m old.  I’m reminded of my mother-in-law who grew a wart on the side of her nose in her old age.  She and I laughed about it.  Now that I’m old, it’s not so funny.

And if my nose itches, I won’t soon be kissing a fool.    My grandma said I would be.

 Very likely, I’ll hear alarm bells going off if I see a black cat up ahead of me.  I’ll ignore the poor cat and let it go on it’s way.  No drowning fisherman.  No running over cats.  No whistling.  (Tweet tweet!)