Imbolc 2010

January has thankfully fallen away behind me, and just to make sure it's taken all my bad waves with it, I am going to (metaphorically, unless I can find my cast iron cauldron in the next 20 minutes) tear it's page off the calendar and burn it. Fire is cleansing, and Sweet Buttery* Gods, my spirit is in need of a good cleanse right now.

*The Irish origins of this holiday have quite a bit to do with lambs being born. New butter was a precious and welcome gift once the ewes started lactating with the birth of their lambs. Hence my newly minted swear.

Besides setting things on fire, the main way I celebrate this holiday is by cleaning my house. (How weird is that, right? I bet you thought I'd be making corn dollies or dedicating an altar to Brigid or something like that. All well and good, but so much work. It is amazing the things a girl can pick up in 20 years of indiscriminately reading books put put by Llewelleyn and Sam Weiser.) Thank you Big Lots, for providing me with a new Shark Steam Mop at %20 off, I love you. Thank you Keith, for going out and buying Dawn because the Palmolive I bought at Big Lots was actually for the Dishwasher, not the Sink. Thank you Delia, for playing Wii and ignoring me while I threw away a whole garbage bag full of ruined, outgrown clothes and worthless toys that were in the way. Thank you Cats, for letting me clean your litterboxes and not immediately crapping in them. I feel much better now.

February 2 is Groundhog Day. I hope everyone is as excited as I am to see what Punxutawney Phil prognosticates. I am hoping for 6 more weeks of winter. Wait, no I'm not! No matter what Phil divines from the light outside his hidey-hole, winter won't technically end till the Spring Equinox. And then there will be dancing....