Here we are at a quarter after nine, and I’m pushing the boundaries of wakefulness. This getting up and exercising thing knackers a person!
Today, according to the Celtic calendar, is the first day of spring. Imbolc, or St. Brigid’s day, which explains why people’ve been selling St. Brigid’s crosses on the street all week. I did not know, previous to discussing this with Mom, that I knew off the top of my head that the name for the first day of spring was “Imbolc”, but when Mom said it was, I had this little thought process that went “First day of sp–oh, February 1. Imbolc. Cross? WT–oh, that’s what the people on the streets are selling crosses for.”
(Imbolc, Beltane, Lughsana and Samhain. I felt very very silly be surprised that the Irish word for “May” was “Beltane”. :) Mom said I knew too much mythology, then allowed as how it /did/ seem to be rather useful to me professionally. :))
I spent a *very* long time today stomping around Cork trying to find a 3 litre swing-top garbage bin to put compost in. I looked in every damned store in town and couldn’t find one. My will to live was drained. Then I came home and Mom told me that actually I wanted a push-pedal one with a removable inner bin because the swing-top ones were very messy. So in fact I spent all that time stomping around Cork looking for THE WRONG THING, which is not in the least bit better!
I am cautiously approaching the idea of making next week a Writing Blitz week.
A photo from friends of my youngest fan:
And now, to bed.
ytd wordcount: 43,700
miles to Minas Tirith: 87.4