Iceland

Category archives for Iceland

random dump

stuff I need to contemplate and therefore you probably should do: “So Forget Jesus, Stars Died So You Could Live” – Miley Cyrus, aka Hannah Montana gets death threats for quoting Lawrence Krauss on twitter… Philocosmology – Our Blog – Templeton foundation sponsors a Cosmology/Philosophy blog at Rutgers. Looks like a good crew – now…

Kertasníkir

And, so, as this feast of Saint Thorlacius comes to an end, we await the arrival of the last of the yule lads the sneaky candle swiper hisself Kertasníkir The lads are bathed, a major achievement in and of itself, and ready for the grand finale tomorrow night they leave town, but first their mother…

Ketkrókur

The penultimate half-troll trundles into town today, ready to pounce on the shoppers rushing home with their treasures Ketrókur he carries a big stick and he is not afraid to use it, upon it is a hook with which he’ll snag the who-beast shanks straight from the pot and scarf it up while it is…

Gáttaþefur

getting ready for the grand finale, the eleventh of the elven comes sidling into town Gáttaþefur He is well endowed this lad, and his long and sensitive proboscis will sniff out the christmas baking and he will swipe it if he can he is hoping for some Laufabrauð nom nom nom

Gluggagægir

bit naughty this half-troll is Gluggagægir likes to peep through your window late at night and see wassup he’s a sweety, really he is, just checking on whether you’ve been naughty as we get closer to the big day

Bjúgnakrækir

and the jólasveinar march on with their stout staffs in their hand… this morning Bjúgnakrækir he climbs the rafters looking for sausages being hung or smoked, he particularly like the thick fatty bjúgu – lamb or horse he’ll eat them all nom nom nom

Skyrgámur

Oh dreadful son-of-a-troll! Last night the most feared of all the jólasveinar came, and a true son of a troll is he… Skyrgámur! Curse you! He steals your skyr, the last of the precious few hauled hundreds of miles across the mountains, in the snow, up hill, both ways… and then he taunts you!

Hurðaskellir

If you wake tonight to the door slamming, it is probably just the wind, or is it… Hurðaskellir – he’s a bother. This explains it all…

Askasleikir

And the jólasveinar keep stumbling in, the pace ramping up as christmas approaches (actually it is steady at one per day, it just feels ever more frantic) Askasleikir – he licks your Ask clean, natch. No, this sort of Askur, silly – the sort you keep your skyr in!

Pottasleikir

Pottasleikir – cheap, but he licks the pots clean, saves on the washing up