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Getting the Yule on

Today I spent a full ten minutes in my local fish shop and when I got home I was forced to put every item of clothing I was wearing in the washing machine. Reason? Putrid skate day is coming up, and they had a handsome selection of raw pieces already in stock.

Dear readers, this blog has not been very heavy on the Yule lately, and those of you who have been reading alongtime may be asking yourselves where all the posts about the Yule Lads and Grýla and the Yule Cat are, whilst secretly wondering whether our YT is making only a halfhearted attempt at getting her Yule on this year. To which the answer is, not to worry, we’re getting our Yule on as usual, only when you’ve blogged about those crafty Yule Lads for three years in a row you get a wee bit weary because, let’s face it, there’s only so much that you can say about them, especially when you don’t have little kids any more that totally believe that there’s a new Yule Lad that comes down from the mountains every night and deposits a little gift in their shoe, not to mention writes them letters in Old English font.

In three more days it will be Christmas up here [we celebrate on the 24th] and, as a matter of fact, our particular Christmas starts a day early, on the 23rd, because that’s when YT celebrates her birthday, so everything has to be done before then. The more astute amongst you may recall that YT’s birthday happens to coincide with putrid skate day, and that for the last few years YT and EPI have been invited to a rancid skate party at EPI’s brother and sister-in-law’s place. Only they had the nerve to move to Selfoss earlier this year [boo!] so there shall be no rancid skate party this year. And before you ask, no, I’m certainly not going to throw one at our place because when you throw a rancid skate party every last object in the house becomes permeated with the smell which can only be described as a cross between ammonia and cat piss. Multiplied by about 1010. Right before the holiest of all holy days. I may be crazy, but I’m not insane.

OK. Let’s see. We’ve already done the Yule buffet, we’ve been to The Virgin, we’ve been to the Yule party at my father’s place for all the kids and grandkids. I’ve bought all the Christmas prezzies that I need to buy [I may have to assist EPI and AAH a bit tomorrow and the next day], and today we went out and did most of the grocery shopping for Christmas dinner and my birthday. Plus last night EPI and I went out and bought our Christmas tree from the charity in support of children with cancer. It’s sitting out on the balcony as we speak, because the tradition here is that the tree doesn’t go up until the 23rd [in our case the 22nd, for reasons above]. The only thing I haven’t done is bought myself any Yule Cat insurance [unless a pair of nylons count] because, quite frankly, I can’t be bothered to go out and buy myself a new Christmas dress when I have a perfectly good one that I bought last year and which I’ve only used, like, twice since then.

OK, the truth is I’ve developed a sudden fierce allergy to shopping malls and fitting rooms. The other day I went to Kringlan for the first time in months and within 20 minutes felt like I’d had all the lifeblood sucked out of me and was ready to crawl beneath the nearest clothing rack in a foetal position and just lie there until I was beamed up to the nearest Galactic spaceship. I took it as a sign to get the hell out of there, and to not go back until the hordes have left. Besides, the rampant consumerism makes me ill, as I alluded to in a previous post. I’ve never felt it quite this strongly before, but I certainly do now, and I’m sure it has something to do with some rather eye-opening, and perhaps even life-changing, experiences I’ve had recently [more on that later, perhaps].

I think I’ll leave you with a little story that I heard from my half-sister the other day. She has two boys [and a wee baby girl] and the younger of the boys [who is three] is just getting his head around the whole Yule Lad concept. However, he hadn’t quite figured out what it means when you get a potato in your shoe [it means you’ve been bad and it’s a Very Serious Matter] and when the first Yule Lad arrived this year, both he and his brother got a potato because they’d been naughty the previous day. However, he happens to like potatoes, so he came running out to his mom, all excited, and asked: “Can you help me peel it?” [D’oh!]

So believe me, I was grateful for my HappyLight, which was on duty the entire time I spent at home. Although, to be honest, I’m not perfectly sure whether it’s making a difference, or if it’s all in my head. I mean, I think I have fewer SAD symptoms, but I’m still pretty tired and stuff, and it’s hard to get up in the mornings [although it might help if I went to bed at a decent hour, and not at, say, 2 am]. I’m not depressed or anything, though, and my concentration is back up to speed, so … maybe. maybe. Currently 8°C [46F], the sun came up at 11.21 and went down at 3.29 pm. Winter solstice tomorrow! Huzzah!