The Etruscan Principle of Auguries, telling fortunes from the flight of birds or behaviour of cats and grippers

From the early 19th century, those who heard of the Etruscan tombs and or visited them became fascinated with the mysterious civilisation.  It is mysterious primarily because few written records remain, even though the Etruscans were, to some extent, the ancestors of the Romans who founded the great Roman Empire.

When I visited Tarquinia, I immediately experienced a sense of enchantment similar to that of Ludwig I of Bavaria and Robert Graves as well as a host of other artists, princes and ordinary tourists.  For a start, I love underground places and entrances to the underworld or other world, whether they be barrows, tombs or caves.  The way that the Etruscans laid out the tombs with a dining table and seats for the living visitors as well as the dead tenants appealed to me enormously.  There was something exquisitely peaceful and positive about the whole business, despite the 'presence' of the winged demons who guarded the door to the other world.

That is not the topic of this post, however.  It is rather the extraordinary reliance of the Etrusans on auguries of every sort, whether the flight of birds, the entrails of a sacrificed animal or the appearance of a meteor shower. 

Today, I had an experience that I would consider to be rather Etruscan although I wonder if I should attach any significance to it. 

Over the past year, I slowly have been trying to salvage all of my possessions from my former abode.  Decimated by moths and often almost inaccessible beneath other possessions, valuable clothes often are found only after I have removed 'work' clothes, mainly because work clothes were used on an almost daily basis and the more valuable clothing was seldom worn.  In any event, I found a few of my good cashmere leggings and was able to rehabilitate most of them.

There was a brief period when cashmere garments, especially when mixed with other textiles, were relatively inexpensive.  Fabricated usually in China, one could purchase a fair number of items on sale for a ridiculously low price.  The downside of this sometimes was the colour of the items.  Living in a climate where winter could be bitter and in a room that did not have proper heating, I really was not that concerned with the colour of leggings and bought whatever was available.  As the years passed, I tended to wear the weird colours and kept the black or charcoal pairs for special occasions.

There was one pair in particular that I wore often, despite the fact that the tie at the waist broke immediately.  The tie was made of the same fabric and woefully inadequate for its purpose.  Unfortunately, the openings for the tie were extremely small and all I could find to replace the fabric tie was a rather unattractive length of string.  It never worked perfectly although I continued to wear it.  Ultimately, however, I put the leggings aside, when moths and time left multiple tears along the seam between the legs.

At first, I left those leggings behind but recently have been rescuing clothing that was not my first nor my second choice.  I decided that one way to empower my rather battered soul would be to mend or rehabilitate as many of my damaged and ruined possessions as possible.  Some things are possible.  Others are not.  I had to toss some beautiful antique rugs because of the moth invasions.  The leggings, on the other hand, infinitely less valuable but possibly equally irreplaceable at this point in time, could be mended.

I first shored up all the holes, using simple thread rather than matching wool.  One could not tell the difference honestly, which made me regret that I had not performed the action sooner.  I then ordered some narrow elastic cord online.  This morning, I spent over half an hour threading it through the very narrow channel at the waistband.  The results were everything one could wish and I was rather proud and pleased. 

Let me mention here that one of the reasons I decided to mend the leggings was my inability to find any replacements at a reasonable price.  Cashmere is not as common as it was a decade ago and is very expensive now as well.  In searching online, I found some extraordinary goat wool leggings from the Ukraine that looked like Pan's legs but nothing in cashmere,  I rather fancied the mythical leggings but they were rather expensive actually.  Ultimately, I decided it would be more practical to mend the rather pedestrian leggings I owned.

At this point, I had to go downstairs to feed the cats.  I decided not to change my clothes.  After all, the leggings, even if cashmere, were very old...

Half an hour later, I tried to help Ashleigh onto my lap and his claw became caught in the lower part of my leggings.  He began to struggle and tore a hole in them!

What is the significance of all this?  Is it some kind of cosmic statement that one really cannot fight against the ravages of Nature and Time?  Is it a warning not to bother with my damaged possessions because there is no way to win this fight?  Or is it nothing more than a little coincidence.  The hole was very small.  I was able to mend it in a few moments and the casual viewer cannot tell that there was any damage.

Later, I dropped my grippers on the landing.  When one cannot reach very far nor bend very far and one needs some kind of aid, what does one do when the tool one uses is dropped?  Again, what sort of augury is this?