I’ve always felt that our calendar is a bit off. Because while the year starts all shiny and new with the month of January, it’s not until late March or early April that things begin to come to life.
It seems the early Romans agreed with me, because March used (apparently) to be the first month in their calendar. Winter didn’t get any formal months at all, just fifty-or-so days tacked on to the end of the ten-month year like something best politely ignored.
Which seems fair, given how the dark days at that time of year seem to merge into one long period of cold, damp misery. Continue reading