I’m not superstitious, but the number thirteen crops up remarkably often in my life. A lot of people dodge thirteen, consider it unlucky, but I think of it as my lucky number.
 
Firstly, I remember passing my last year 12 subject, Modern History, on 13th January, back in the days when the results came out in the daily paper (The Argus if I remember correctly.) I’d never been very fond of the subject and had a teacher who didn’t really make it an exciting subject.
 
I passed my driver’s licence on the 13th of March. I was so nervous. Cars back in the 60’s were manual, and traffic signals were given by hand, rain, hail or shine. The hand brake start was tested on the railway station ramp.  I had one of the strictest police in Benalla that day, with the reputation of regularly failing people. All good!  I passed.
 
We were married on the 13th of February. It was a humid sticky day threatening to storm. However, it held off till the photos were taken outside the church and the last guests were inside the reception, then it bucketed down. Luckily it cleared by the time we came outside again.  It must have been a lucky day as we are still together after 60+ years.
 
Our first grandchild was born on a thirteenth, an emergency caesarean, and a healthy baby.
 
On our visit to USA, we went out to Grand Canyon.  On seeing helicopter flights available over the canyon, we decided it would be the best way to see it.  This was very exciting, having never been in one before. On alighting we did the touristy thing and had our photos taken beside the helicopter. On looking back at the photo later we were amazed to see it was Number 13. I bet a lot of people dodged that one!  Also, on the plane trip back to Vegas, we had seats 12, 13 and 14.
 
The only raffle I can remember winning was Number 13. It was at the first Camellia Society Christmas party.  Ray was asked to draw the winning ticket.  Imagine our embarrassment when he drew my ticket!
 
On a humorous note, a farming acquaintance of ours bought a new farm ute. His wife, a rather superstitious woman, warned him not to get 13 in the number plate. He duly arrived home with the new ute to be greeted with “I told you not to get 13 on the number plate”. It was ABC148, which added up to 13. I hope it didn’t bring them any bad luck!
​
 
Margaret Nelson

This should be my downsizing year. As we age,  we think of moving to a smaller house and garden, (or no garden), disposing of our clutter so our children won’t have to cope with it. I look at my cupboards  and wonder where to start. There are programs on TV about people who are compulsive hoarders—I think I’m heading that way too!                                                                                                 
I look in my wardrobe and wonder where to start, several favourite jumpers are at least 30 years old, but they made better quality woollens then—pure wool  with no synthetic added. On the next shelf I find scores of T shirts and trousers. I’ve got to keep old clothes for gardening and around the farm. I”ve heard that when you buy a new article of clothing an old one should be thrown out. Not me!  
                                    
On the back of the top shelf is a case containing my wedding dress (60 years), a lace creation with a bouffant skirt. I kept it thinking one of my daughters may have worn it, but alas, they weren't  the same size as me, and lace was out of fashion. Perhaps one of my granddaughters will like it?

With COVID we don’t go out so we don’t need anything flash to wear, and when you are over 80, comfort comes before fashion!   And, some of those old clothes are comfortable!      
                                                                                                                    
I move on to the linen cupboard. Apart from linen, there are stacks of photo albums, vases, Xmas decorations and records, a lot of which I’ve inherited from my mother. I look at the photos of family and holidays and I get very sentimental and find it hard to throw anything out.  The Xmas decorations must go, apart from finding it a bother to hang tinsel etc. there  possibly will not be a family gathering here this year due to COVID isolation. Anything worthwhile on records could be transferred to CD’s. Might manage to throw something out here!   
                                                             
Next I move to my “sewing room” (bedroom 4). Here I find two sewing machines plus my Nana's old treadle Singer machine.  Sentimentality rules again, after all, that old machine has lots of drawer space!  The wardrobes bulge with material scraps and craft books that only a quilter would understand. Those scraps, no matter how small, might be useful one day. Other craft gear of the past,--beads, ribbons, buttons, wool and paints I might use one day, (when I’m really old).     
 I wander out to the bin with a small bag of rubbish, the whole exercise was like shifting the deck chairs on the Titanic.  I need a cup of tea and a sit down!   Was it Scarlet O’Hara who said “Tomorrow is another day”?

​Margaret Nelson