Imbolc to the Celts, or Brighid’s Day, or Saint Brighid’s Day, or Candlemas, or–to be patently unromantic about it–Groundhog Day. It is the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, celebrated in the first day or two of February. Winter is half over. Half done. Half-put-up-with. Remember the last few days before Christmas? The time between then and now is the space of time until it is officially spring. That seems like a bearable span of time.
Fittingly it snowed all day yesterday and is raining this morning, albeit freezing rain. The road condition map in our area is all red. I won’t be able to go to the gym again, so I’ll improvise a workout at home. I joined the local gym in early December and aim to go five days a week. The weather prevented me from going a lot in January.
On January 7 I went semi-Paleo, too. The five pounds of Christmas bloat came off quickly, but I haven’t made progress since then. It’s interesting to me that I feel just fine on Paleo. Having said that, this week I found a bag of Scottish oatmeal at the grocery, and I’ve been having a bowl of that once a day. It feels like a wicked indulgence, but I’m enjoying it immensely.
PS: Want to get your Celtic pride on? Turn this one up LOUD: