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[#11491] Emigranter og tradisjoner rundt juletid


Gjest Nina Møller Nordby
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Gjest Nina Møller Nordby

I forbindelse med en artikkel jeg skal skrive om emigranter og julefeiering i et nytt land håper jeg på at det er noen der ute som kanskje har ett og annet å fortelle.Det hadde vært spennede å høre om hvordan tradisjoner ble ivaretatt etc.

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Gjest Nina Møller Nordby

Fra Canada har jeg fått denne:'...Well my grandfather would always order his herring about this time of year. It would come from Norway, I think in a small wooden barrel...........Then he would pickel the herring to be ready for Christmas. His name was John Pederson , and it was his family that built boats that left Norway in their own boat. They were from Hedmark.......'

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Gjest Tor Kvien

Denne ankom i dag fra Montana: LUTEFISK LAMENT'Twas the day before Christmas, with things all a bustle. As Mama got set for the Christmas Eve tussle. Aunts, uncles, and Cousins would soon be arriving, With stomachs all ready for Christmas Eve dining. while I sat alone with a feeling of dread, As visions of lutefisk danced in my head. The thought of the smell made my eyeballs start burning. The thought of the taste set my stomach to churning. For I'm one who good Swedes rebuff, A Scandahoovian boy, who can't stand the stuff. Each year, however, I played at the game, To spare Ma and Papa the undying shame. I must bear up bravely. I can't take the risk, Of relatives knowing I hate lutefisk.Then out in the yard I heard such a clatter. I jumped up to see what was the matter. There in the snow, all in a jumble, Three of my uncles had taken a tumble.From out in the kitchen an odor came stealing, That fairly set all of my senses to reeling. The smell of the lutefisk crept down the hall, And wilted a plant in a pot on the wall. Uncles Oscar and Lars said 'Oh, that smells yummy,' And Kermit's eyes glittered while he patted his tummy.Mama announced dinner by ringing a bell. They rushed to the table with a whoop and a yell. I lifted my eyes to heaven and sighed, And a rose on the wallpaper withered and died. Then Mama came proudly with a bowl on a trivet. You would have thought the crown jewels were in it. She set it down gently and then took her seat. And Papa said grace before we could eat. It seemed to me, in my whirling head, The shortest of prayers he ever had said.Then Mama raised the cover on that steaming dish, And I had to face the quivering fish. The plates were passed for Papa to fill, While I waited in agony, twixt fever and chill. He dipped in the spoon and held it up high, As it oozed to plates, I thought I would die.Then it came to my plate, and to my fevered brain. There seemed enough lutefisk to derail a train. It looked like a nountain of congealing glue, Yet oddly transparent and discolored in hue. With butter and cream sauce I tried to conceal it, I salted and peppered, but the smell still revealed it.I drummed up my courage, tried to be bold, Mama reminds me, 'Eat before it gets cold.' Deciding to face it, 'Uffda,' I sighed. 'Uffda, indeed,' my stomach replied.Then summoning the courage for which w are known, My hand took the fork as with a mind of its own. And with reckless abandon the lutefisk I ate, Within 20 seconds, I'd cleaned up my plate. Uncle Kermit flashed me an ear-to-ear grin, As butter and cream sauce dripped from my chin. Then to my great shock, he spoke in my ear, 'I'm sure glad that's over for another year.'It was then that I learned a great wonderful truth, That Swedes and Norwegians from old men to youth, Must each pay their dues to have the great joy, Of being known as a good Scandahoovian boy, And so to tell you all, as you face the great test, 'Happy Christmas to you, and to you all my best.' Author Unknown

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Gjest Kjellaug Robberstad Petit

Du kom meg akkurat i forkjøpet, Tor-:)Men her er litt mer interessant stoff, for mye til å kopiere her, gå til denne URL-en.Lenkemvh Kjellaug

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