A couple of local gents are drinking a pint in a pub near Cushendall, County Antrim, one evening when a redhead comes through the door. “Ah, there’s that Liz Weir who believes in fairies,” one says. Weir, an Irish storyteller with an international reputation, stops. “And you don’t?” He smiles and shakes his head. “So now, tell me, will you be cutting down that fairy tree on your place any time soon?” She means an old Hawthorne...

A friend shared this family story with me.  I know some people consider this a ‘bad’ luck day. For me it has  always been good luck in a convoluted way. You see my father (who has  since passed on) was born on Friday the 13th, at home. He was born  three months premature and only weighed 2 lbs. 9 oz. To keep him alive  they placed him in a shoe box on the oven door and gave him a shot of  whiskey every hour. By the time he was...