Lemme see…

Dogs. I am NOT afraid of dogs any more, at least not categorically. I was terrified of dogs when I was a young child. I’m not sure why except possibly because various parental friends and relatives owned dogs that “rogered” everyone they came in contact with including small children who didn’t necessarily like to be touched without granting permission (Fury was not one of those obnoxious dogs, she just fell into the general category of dogs at the time). I lost my [categorical] fear of dogs within about six hours after the arrival of my childhood dog Tigger. I still do not like to be “rogered” or jumped on by strange dogs with insipid owners and I am afraid of one dog in the neighborhood who has tried to bite me.

Lighting matches. New parents? If your baby does not seem to be interested in experimenting with pyromaniac activities, do now freak them totally out about lighting matches. No, children should not “play” with matches. This once-child became terrified of faaarrrr after a very early incident where a crappy old cloth lucky-shuckial frying pan cord suddenly burst into flame. Subsequent admonishments meant to “scare” me from lighting matches only served to instill a lifelong fear of matches. (P.S. If your kid *does* get into pyromania, put him/her on a leash!)

Walking alone in the dark. Yes and no. No, in my nice but not fancy neighborhood, although I keep an eye out [knock on wood big-time]. But yes, if I’m in an unfamiliar area.

And that brings up skunks. Harmless aminals except for you-know-what. I’ll never forget once when my old coot went out to pee off the front of the moomincabin deck at that batscope hour and was startled by a black and white aminal. As it turned out, it was only the cat Muksaslooie, prowling around for small mammals and the like.

A very few species of lepidoptera. I won’t go any further than that. This is not an uncommon phobia, believe it or not. My beloved MacMu aunt Charlotte shared it with me, for one.

Water. Well, water over my head, that is. I am certainly not categorically afraid of water, given that I use gallons of it every day and do not tolerate a day without at least one shower. But I get freaked out about deep water even if I can see the bottom. When I was a teenager, it took every ounce of courage I possessed to swim out to the raft (and I *can* swim).

The Green Slime. After watching that movie with older teenage friends (I think I was 13 or something), I remember being out on the afore-mentioned raft, looking for the green slime, even though I KNEW it wasn’t there. It’s kind of like looking for The Cylinder. Of all things, the GG and I watched the Green Slime movie on our wedding night, in a beautiful Holiday Inn room in Sault Ste. Siberia, Ontario. I wasn’t afraid of it by that time.

The Cylinder. I am still afraid of that. Brother where art thou.

Flying. Yes. It’s complicated though. I went on many childhood Sunday afternoon after-church expotitions sitting in the passenger seat of a small Cessna with my WWII Army Air Corps dad piloting the plane. Yes, he let me take the controls. I loved when we left the ground. I know I am overthinking the flying fear, worrying about the small percentage of planes that crash or disappear. When I actually do force myself to fly, I tend to be okay. Go figger. Of course, now I have Titanium Pinky, which will likely be a TSA problem and that does not help with the overall anxiety level. Sigh…

I am not afraid of my back yard (pic) and I am not afraid of letting service people into the house, at least not categorically. The yard looked like this one long-ago year when we were having internet problems. Comcast sent out a serial killer. Oh not really but I was afraid of that guy and when the GG came home, he understood how I felt.

I have not told you about all of my fears. These are only the ones I don’t mind broadcasting and only those that I am thinking about at the moment. I have others 🐸. What are your fears? The ones you don’t mind talking about, of course 🐸.

Love you all. KW

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