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It’s feed your man putrid shark day again

That’s correct: today is the day known as bóndadagur, which literally translates as ‘man-of-the-house day’ or ‘husband’s day’ or ‘farmer’s day’ depending on how you want to interpret the word bóndi. This means you’re supposed to treat your husband or boyfriend to a whole bunch of nice things – kind of like Valentine’s Day, only it’s just for the husband. Whereas in February you have konudagur – ‘Woman’s day’ which is just for the wife. An arrangement I personally think is superexcellent – I mean, who doesn’t like having the focus of appreciation exclusively on themselves?

Coincidentally [or not] this day marks the start of the month of Þorri according to the ancient Icelandic calendar, which has a totally fascinating history that I blogged about last year and therefore will refrain from blogging about again. Basically it revolves around these Þorrablót festivals that are held all over the country over the next month where people imbibe a lot of Black Death [Icelandic liquor] and eat lots of rotten food – including putrid shark that supposedly has been buried in the ground for months – and generally get very drunk and obnoxious.

So today being bóndadagur, I of course gave EPI a full-body hot oil massage as soon has he arrived home from work, after which I proceeded to peel him a few grapes and subsequently fed him putrid shark, followed by a filet of lamb with sauteed apples, mushrooms and salad of greens, grapes and blue cheese, and some excellent Chateauneuf-du-Pape. And some Ben and Jerry’s for dessert.* All in a day’s work on bóndadagur.

AND OUR PUTRID WEATHER IS…
Two words: freezing. windkill. It’s been blowing today and temps have been around the -5°C mark [for all you Farenheiters, that would make it around 23°F]. The sun came up at 10.45 and set at 16.32 and if you’ll excuse me I have some seriously sexy pamering to get to. Laters.

* Not really. I didn’t actually feed him putrid shark.

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