Real Estate Information Archive

Blog

Displaying blog entries 1-10 of 16

Candle Beggar, Kertasnýkir.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Candle Beggar

Candle Beggar arrives on Christmas Eve Day, 24 December. In former times, candles were the brightest lights available to people. They were so rare and precious that all children longed to have their very own candle for Christmas. And poor Candle Beggar – well, he also longed for a candle. The National Museum is open between 11 and 12 on Christmas Eve Day, to welcome Candle Beggar.

The Kertasníkir, Candle Beggarthirteenth 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.

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                                                                   

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

 

 

Meat Hook, Kjetkrókur.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Meat Hook

St. Thorlák's Day, 23 December, is the day of Meat Hook's arrival. Meat Hook was crazy about meat. In the old days he would lower a long stick through the chimney and snag a smoked leg of lamb hanging from the rafters, or a piece of smoked lamb from the pot. In those days the smoked lamb, which is traditional Icelandic Christmas fare, was cooked on St. Thorlák's Day.

Ketkrókur, Meat HookMeat 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.

 

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                             

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

Door Sniffer, Gáttaþefur.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Door Sniffer

Door Sniffer comes to town on 22 December. He is easily recognised by his huge nose. He loved the smell of cakes and lace bread – sometimes called leaf bread – when they were being prepared for Christmas, and always tried to steal one or two.

Gáttaþefur, Door SnifferEleventh 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.

 

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                             

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

 

Door Sniffer, Gáttaþefur.

Window Peeper, Gluggagægir.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Window Peeper

December 21 is when Window Peeper visits. This Lad was not as greedy as some of his brothers, he just liked to peep through the windows and sometimes nicked the toys that he saw.

Gluggagægir, Window PeeperThe 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.

 

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                             

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

 

Window Peeper, Gluggagægir.

Sausage Swiper, Bjúgnakrækir.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Sausage Swiper

On 20 December we are expecting Sausage Swiper. He loved to eat sausages and stole them whenever he had a chance.

Bjúgnakrækir, Sausage SwiperThe 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.

 

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                             

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

 

Skyr Gobbler, Skyrgámur.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Skyr Gobbler

On 19 December we welcome the Yule Lad called Skyr Gobbler. His favourite is an Icelandic dairy product called skyr, which is similar to yogurt. He likes it so much that he used to sneak into the pantry and gobble all the skyr out of the skyr tub.

Skyrgámur, Skyr GobbleSkyr 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.

 

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                             

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

 

Skyr Gobbler, Skyrgámur

Door Slammer, Hurðaskellir.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Door Slammer

Door Slammer comes to town on 18 December. He always made a lot of noise when he walked around, slamming doors and such, so people could hardly get any rest. He still has a habit of slamming doors and always does when he visits the National Museum.

Hurðaskellir, Door SlammerThe 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 squeak.

 

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                             

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

 

Bowl Licker, Askasleikir.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Bowl Licker

Bowl Licker comes to town on 17 December. In the past, Icelanders ate from lidded wooden bowls that they sometimes kept under the bed or on the floor. Bowl Licker would hide under the bed, and if someone put their bowl on the floor he grabbed it and licked the inside clean.

Askasleikir, Bowl LickerBowl 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!

 

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                             

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

 

Pot Scraper, Pottasleikir.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Pot Scraper

Pot Scraper is expected on 16 December. He is also sometimes called Pot Licker since in the old days he waited to snatch away the pots that had not been washed and licked the food remains from the insides. 

Pottasleikir, Pot ScraperPot 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.

 

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                             

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

 

Spoon Licker, Þvörusleikir.

by Petur Sigurdsson, Broker and Erna Sigurdsson, Real

Spoon Licker

Spoon Licker comes down from the mountains on 15 December. In the past he would sneak into the houses and lick the wooden spoon used to scrape the pots. These days he looks for wooden spoons at the National Museum when he visits.

Þvörusleikir, Spoon LickerThe 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.

 

From the poem The Yuletide Lads by Jóhannes úr Kötlum.                             

English translation by Hallberg Hallmundsson.

 

Displaying blog entries 1-10 of 16