English – cats and dogs
Iceland – fire and brimstone
Greece – chair legs
Colombia – husbands
Catalonia – barrels and casks
Ireland – cobblers’ knives
Brazil – lizards and snakes
Czech Republic – wheelbarrows
Norway – witches
Denmark – shoemaker’s apprentices
Slovakia – tractors
France – ropes
Wales – knives and forks
Poland – frogs
Germany – puppies
I find this list terrifying to the extreme.
I’ve spent my life fearing the occasional English downpour—expecting cats and dogs to plummet from the heavens, perhaps swept up by Midwest tornadoes. But husbands (and not wives)? Shoemaker’s apprentices (but not the shoemakers themselves)? And Greek chair legs?
It’s all too much.
I already carry a full toolkit of irrational fears. I simply cannot relocate to another country. French ropes? What does that even mean—are they coiled or taut? Falling vertically or lashing about?
There’s something quietly menacing about Polish frogs and Brazilian snakes. But Slovak tractors? That’s not even symbolic—it’s just a straight-up agricultural hazard.
I blame the weather.
(With thanks to James Chapman, soundimals.com)