OOOps

This is what happens when one shares a computer... my blog is over on Olga's
so go to her to see what i had to write.. which wasn´t much.. but as I am here I will log a couple of other photos

ma talking to my brother on the phone

hmmm waiting...

Am I supposed to be happy?

Freyja is a tad pissed off as I got a book about how to train ones best friend.. She thought it was below her. Afterall, Freyja is top dog and even if alpha male thinks things should change... hmmm dream on

Kertasníkir - Candle Beggar

The thirteenth was Candle Beggar-

´twas cold, I believe,
if he was not the last

of the lot on Christmas Eve.

He trailed after the little ones
who, like happy sprites,

ran about the farm

with their fine tallow lights.

This is olga, by the way, Sigga has entrusted her yuletide-lad review to me - since I´m hogging her computer anyway, I may as well be useful!

So yeah, candle stealing man. He was really hard to take a good photo of, maybe Sigga will edit it later and add another. I think this guy was one of my favourites, along with the door slamming guy. And he seems to be the only non-food related one... Unless he´s eating the candles.

Also, I really like the idea of all the farm children running around their wooden houses with lit candles, and being stalked by a yule lad, no less. Sounds like a blast!

Anyway, Ross and I are looking forward to a lovely (and hopefully white) Christmas here in Sauðárkrókur, I hope the rest of you have an exciting and fun-filled Christmas of your own!

x

Kétkrókur - meat hook and St Thorlak's Day - Þorláksmessa

Meat Hook, the twelfth one, his talent would display

as soon as he arrived on Saint Thorlak´s Day.

He snagged himself a morsel of meet of any sort,

although his hook at times was a tiny bit short.

St Thorlak's day is Iceland's patron saints day. St Thorlak did not officially get recognised by the catholic church until 1984 when John Paul II decided to do so (probably politically correct at the time) Thorlaks sainthood was confirmed by the Icelandic parliament in 1198 - so it took the church a while to respond...

What is special about his day is the fact that alot of Icelandic people choose to eat what I term rotten food. Skate is disgusting...

The following is from fisheries.is and basically tells you why it stinks and why I don´t eat it.

"Icelanders prepare the skate by salting or fermenting it. The Icelandic way of fermenting the skate is quite simple; the skates are put in a pile on the deck of the boat or on the seashore, and there they lie for a few months. During this process the urea in the blood is broken down into harmless ammonia compounds. Harmful bacteria that would otherwise cause the flesh to rot (to become putrid) are kept away by the high acidity and by other harmless bacteria during this process. It is commonly thought that Icelanders eat putrid skate, they do not! The skate is not putrid! The Greenland shark is processed in a similar way. However, the shark is eaten raw while the skate is always boiled." (putrid or not a fish that is left to lie for a few months......)

"The strong ammonia smell of a well-prepared skate is supposed to stop your breath temporarily and clear your sinuses. It is supposed to be a good remedy for the common cold. Research has not supported that."

It is eaten with boiled potatoes and some put putrified melted animal fat on it as well.... mmmmm

Actually the people that eat it declare it delicious. I just want to know - if it is so delicious why is it not always on the menu - why only on Thorlak?

It´s nearly Christmas and I am still not ready...

Gáttaþefur - door sniffer

Eleventh was Door Sniffer,a doltish lad and gross.

He never got a cold, yet had a huge, sensitive nose.

He caught the scent of lace bread while leagues away still

and ran toward it weightless as wind over dale and hill.

They do get creepier, now we have a door sniffer -

and he is sniffing at the Christmas card that I got this year from cousin Sirrí - the photo is of my two aunts (Guja on the left and Maja on the right) and my ma- the one in the middle. The photowas taken during museum day - when the old girls dress up and pretend like they were back in the bad old days, living in a turf house (they were all born in one of these and spent most of their childhood in one). Change in Iceland has been most dramatic for this generation of people. They were born into houses without electricity and running water - now they all have mobile phones and laptop computers. Amazing.

Sausage Swiper - Bjugnakrækir and Window Peeper - Gluggagægir

The ninth was Sausage Swiper,a shifty pilferer.
He climbed up to the rafters and raided food from there.
Sitting on a crossbeam in soot and in smoke,
he fed himself on sausage fit for gentlefolk

The tenth was Window Peeper,a weird little twit,
who stepped up to the window and stole a peek through it.
And whatever was inside to which his eye was drawn,
he most likely attempted to take later on.

These two are a tad wierd, especially the window peeper - creepy really.

So far the weekend has been great - got an early start on it on Friday, had a meeting here in town which meant that I clocked off work at around 2:30pm. Started the Christmas shopping, have gotten pressies for mum and maggi and Freyja. Guðný and Maggi came over for dinner and we played my new christmas present to myself - Íslands spilið - like Trivial Pursuit but with only questions on Iceland - figured that I would never win this game - but it would be educational and it has been. I think my brain can take a bit more trivia so I will be concentrating on filling it up with Icelandic facts and useless information. We played two games - Guðny won both. I came last (as to be expected). We then went out (as one does), played a game of pool - danced a little. Fun night - for which I paid dearly today.
Having wasted most of the day, mum and I headed for Holar for a christmas concert by the choir. Was really good, so now it really does feel like Christmas is on its way. The only lowlight at the moment is that the weather is getting warmer - so we may not have any snow this year - I am trying not to think about it - am sure that the weather Gods will intervene to make sure Olga and Ross have a white Chrissy.

Back at Glaumbæ tomorrow

skyrgámur - Skyr Gobbler

Skyr* Gobbler, the eighth, was an awful stupid bloke.

He lambasted the skyr tub till the lid on it broke.
Then he stood there gobbling - his greed was well known - until,

about to burst, he would bleat, howl and groan.

Skyr is a yoghurt type milk product like quark....(if you are German). I love it especially with berries and cream.

hurðaskellir - door slammer

The seventh was Door Slammer, a sorry, vulgar chap:

When people in the twilight would take a little nap,
he was happy as a lark with the havoc he could wreak,

slamming doors and hearing the hinges on them sqeak.

It is very hard to explain life in Iceland less than one hundred years ago when folk lived in turf houses and as we are so far north we have very little sunlight during the winter months. This induced in folk a feeling that there were "other things" out there. It is so easy to understand this when I am out in the open, driving the car, or at Glaumbæ, all the shadows all the strange movements in the moonlight. Sometimes it can be quite creepy... So door slammer, running around the house slamming the few doors that were there (usually only an outer door, perhaps one or two in the "better" parts of the house or maybe even one of the outhouse doors. Easy to imagine an elf or two out there causing havoc.

On todays agenda - interviewing four potential replacements. Boy was I feeling inferior.. Amazing the confidence that some people have, justifiably so, but yeh... it´s weird.

Askasleikir - Bowl licker

Bowl Licker, the sixth one, was shockingly ill bred.

From underneath the bedsteads he stuck his ugly head.
And when the bowls were left to be licked by dog or cat,

he snatched them for himself - he was sure good at that!

Ah yes bowl licker... in the olden days here in Iceland folk had a wooden bowl with a lid that they got served their food in. ... to clean it they left it on the floor for the dogs to lick the remains. This resulted in a spread of an illness called sullaveiki.... sull means liquidymess veiki means illness, basically folk had been infested with tapeworm. Those days are thankfully gone.

Towhit, today I took the dog for "cleaning" - a part of owning a dog and having a license to have a dog in Iceland means that it needs to be "cleaned" every year. So today I took Freyja to the vet and she got two tablets to rid her of any infestation that might be lurking, this means that I can safely leave my bowl on the floor, let her clean it and then eat from it... nah, I think I will continue to use the dishwasher..

Potscraper - Pottasleikir

Pot Scraper, the fifth one, was a funny sort of chap.

When kids were given scrapings, he´d come to the door and tap.
And they would rush to see if there really was a guest.

Then he hurried to the pot and had a scrapingfest.

I think that by this stage Brian (Pilkington - the artist) had already envisaged the other three guys that needed to be holding pots - so this one is not in the collection. So instead of getting a badly taken photo of a little statue you get a badly taken photo of the image from the calendar that we use to follow which lad is coming / going.

Þvörusleikir - ladle licker

I think we all have a bit of this guy in us - who doesn´t like to lick the spoon???

The fourth was Spoon Licker; like spindle he was thin.

He felt himself in clover when the cook wasn´t in.
Then stepping up, he grappled the stirring spoon with glee,

holding it with both hands for it was slippery.

Perhaps the best Yuletide decoration is being wreathed in smiles. ~Author Unknown

Let me introduce you to some of my most favourite people in the world. The photo above is of Bryndís, Guðný and Sirrí, Sirrí is my cousin - we actually have the same name Sigríður - but our diminutives are different, mine is Sigga.
Herdís (below) is Sirrí's sister and runs Áskaffi - the café at Glaumbær. I was enjoying myself pretending to help out in the café today.
It was another rökkugöng in the old house and today a few more people dropped in to experience life in the old turf house and to have some great hot chocolate and cakes at Herdís's. The cookies below are traditional biscuits baked before christmas.

Hálf mánar (half moons - are my grandmother's recipe) vanillu hringir (vanilla rings) mömmu kökkur (mums cakes - ginger bread sandwich with icing) and gyðingarkökkur (jewish cookies - don´t ask me why they are called this - they have shaved almonds and sugar on top and are basically typical butter biscuits)
Twas a great night

Stúfur - my personal favourite

Stubby was the third called, a stunted little man,

who watched for every chance to whisk off a pan.
And scurrying away with it, he scraped off the bits

that stuck to the bottom and brims - his favorites.

I think Stubby is the result of Grýla going off with a dwarf when she was angry with lepalúður.....

Giljagaur

The second was Gully Gawk, gray his head and mien.

He snuck into the cow barn from his craggy ravine.
Hiding in the stalls, he would steal the milk,

while the milkmaid gave the cowherd a meaningful smile.

So this guy stole the milk whilst the milkmaid and cowherd were having a bit of a nooky... looks kinda sweet hey

In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this. ~Terry Pratchett

Of Cats and Shoes in Windows

Another funny thing that happens in Iceland at Christmas is that those poor unfortunate people that don´t get something new to wear at Christmas will be taken away by the Christmas cat.

This ofcourse ensured that in the olden days every man woman and child would receive at least one new piece of clothing, whether it be a sock, mitten or hat. Which ofcourse was extremely practical and necessary in our cold dark winters before electricity, heating and lighting.

These days it is a great excuse to go out and buy a new outfit for Christmas. I bought my dress in April and wore it for the first time to what I feel is the start of the Christmas season - a dance out in the country. This dress will next be worn on Christmas Eve - so I have escaped. Mum is taking care of Olga and Ross (knitted them a new jumper and vest).

As for shoes in windows.... this is the bonus with the jólasveinar - as they come down - "one by one" and raid and pilage what they can in your home, they leave behind (for all the good little boys and girls that have left a shoe in the window) a present. When I was a kid it was more often than not a shiny red apple. These days it tends to be something a little sweeter. However, beware those children that haven´t been behaving - they get an uncooked potato. I heard recently that one mother who was fed up with arguing with her child about a particular pair of shoes that the child did not want to throw out decided to put a potato in it - a mashed potato!!!

The first of them was sheep-cote Clod. He came as stiff as wood,

This is my little sheep- cote clod - the first of the Yuletide lads to arrive in the towns before Christmas. Every Icelandic blogger does this at some stage so I figure this Christmas I will introduce my little group to the lovely/gruesome folk tales that surround our christmas traditions.

Now for some major plagiarising from the National museums website:

Actually no - I will just let them help me.

You see in Iceland we have these guys called Jóla sveinar (Jól = Yule = old heathen pre christmas name for the winter solstice which now = christmas) sveinar = young boy = lad. So if you google yuletide lads you will get the jist. Once there was a poem that said jólasveinar 1 og 8 (ie 9) then there was another poem that said "thirteen altogether" but... there are alot more ... there are actually 60 names recorded.

So, these days the general consensus is that there are 13.

The poem of the 13 was written in the 18th century by Jóhannes úr Kötlum. There is a translation available which I am going to feed to you daily till Christmas:

The Yuletide LadsEnglish translation/Copyright © Hallberg Hallmundsson.

Let me tell the story of the lads of few charms,

who once upon a time used to visit our farms.
They came from the mountains, as many of you know,

in a long single file to the farmsteads below.

Grýla was their mother - she gave them ogre milk -

and the father Leppalúdi; a loathsome ilk.

They were called the Yuletide lads - at Yuletide they were due -

and always came one by one, not ever two by two.

Thirteen altogether, these gents in their prime

didn´t want to irk people all at one time.
Creeping up, all stealth, they unlocked the door.

The kitchen and the pantry they came looking for.

They hid where they could, with a cunning look or sneer,

ready with their pranks when people weren´t near.
And even when they were seen, they weren´t loath to roam

and play their tricks - disturbing the peace of the home.

The first of them was Sheep-Cote Clod. He came stiff as wood,

to pray upon the farmer´s sheep as far as he could.
He wished to suck the ewes, but it was no accident he couldn´t;

he had stiff knees - not to convenient.

So stay tuned.... tomorrow sees the arrival of Giljagaur - the translation - Gully Gawk

You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them. ~Desmond Tutu

Got my camera.... and this is my most wonderful superfabulisious cousin Jóhanna and the photos are from her dinner last week. She makes THE best curries, actually whatever food Jóhanna cooks tastes great. Here she is getting the glasses for the non declared alcoholics in the family.

This little cutie is Finnur - he is the cutest little kid - but hey he has good genes - he is Jóhanna's grandson.
-
This is my dads eldest brother and his daughter in law - Eyrún. Eyrún is married to Rúnar...my uncles wife's name is Rúna

And... here we have Rúnar and Rúna... this Rúna is Jóhanna's younger daughter....
I love Icelandic naming traditions... it used to be a tradition that all children were named in the "head" or as we say in english named after someone in the family. I am named in the memory of my great grandmother Sigríður, all these Rúnars and Rúnas get their names from my uncles wifes side, little Finnur is named after his grandfather Finnur - Jóhanna´s husband. Look at the food... yummmmm.
More on names... when I was growing up in Australia I was the only Sigríður for many thousands of miles. So by the time I left I was a one name person (not really but sort of like Madonna) everyone knew me as Sigga - I no longer needed a surname... In Iceland I am one of 4,842 Sigríðurs.
The base of Rúnar and Rúna's names is Rún which is ofcourse in english Rune - ie the symbols used by vikings both for magical symbols as well as a form of writing.
The trend these days is that "modern" Icelanders are naming their children "út í loftið" - out in the air... no longer sticking to these older traditions - which is in my mind a bit sad, but then I do understand that they want their children to have their own identity and not to always bring relations, or for that matter the dead, to mind.
Another strange thing is that there is a committee that says whether or not a name can be used. This is because Icelandic declines nouns so it is important that a persons name can be declined properly... it´s always rather amusing when the committee lets the public know which names have or have not been approved. Another dumb fact is that the most common names in Iceland (female) were Guðrún, Anna and Sigríður.... the most common boys names Jón, Sigurður and Guðmundur... because we have a national registry and we all have id numbers this information is easilly obtainable - also we are only 330 thousand.. so if you want to scroll through the first names of all icelanders in the year 2005 (with the number of people with that name in brackets) check out wiki on the following link http://is.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%8Dslensk_mannan%C3%B6fn_eftir_notkun the names in red are of our "foreign" folk..

And it has to end with the dog...

Monday is a lame way to spend 1/7 of your life. ~Author Unknown

No photos today as I left my camera at Jóhannas last Tuesday night. We were there for a wonderful curry dinner with the extended family - it was excellent!!!
The next morning I wandered down the road to the leiðbeiningamiðstöð (the centre for advice) - it´s a place that provides farmers with farming and financial advice. So, anyway the short of the long of it is that I will be working there in the new year. Me, helping farmers with their bookkeeping - should be fun. Actually I am quite excited by the change, it will mean a whole heap of new people to meet and get to know. So yeh, I will not be unemployed.....
What else happened.... I had meetings on Thursday that lasted aaaalllllll day.... dreadful.
Friday was the usual pool game and drinks at the local.
Satuday night was dinner party night at my place - we were to have been 12 but ma got ill, not a pretty sight. So 11 of us hunkered around my table and ate Borsch - russian beetroot soup - that actually tasted pretty good Mine was alot better looking ofcourse....(borrowed this from http://kaczmarskyj.com/family_recipes.htm - their recipe is also not the same - but hey) you get the idea. I hate not having had a camera.....
smoked lamb with potatoes in white sauce (my first attempt at doing this - and it didn´t go lumpy or taste like shit..)

picture from kjarnafæði - smoked lamb, greenpeas and potatoes in white sauce.

roasted leg of lamb with pepper sauce and sweetened potatoes (caramelised in sugar and butter)
Guðny and Bryndís made their special christmas beetroot salad (chopped tinned beetroot, chopped apples and whipped cream - believe me when I tell you it is yummy) Then there was some healthy looking green stuff as well. oh and ofcourse ORA grænar baunir (tinned peas from Ora - you need to be Icelandic to understand).
Dessert was made by Herdís - it was THE best chocolate mousse I have ever ever ever had... with whipped cream, blueberries, strawberries and raspberries... yummmm
All of the above was washed down with (and I counted) 12 bottles of extremely good red wine - not one bottle was bad or cheap or nasty... Great guests! (oh and 3 of the guests only had one glass each as they were driving.....).
Sunday I had the pleasure of going to Glaumbæ for the advent "walk in the dark" - its where they open up the turf house to visitors and read christmas stories, recite Icelandic poetry and eat smoked lamb and laufabrauð, after which you go to Áskaffi and have hot chocolate and cakes a´la Herdís.....
Today... Monday - need I say more