Happy Egg-days! Below you can see my grand-grand-grandfather posing for a picture before going for the Great Egg-hunt that lasted for nearly 8 days. Only five of the young men would return alive, one had lost a leg during the ordeal. My great-great-great grandfather. And in honour of that tradition we always skin our newly born babies' left legs, because that seems rational.
Lies obviously, but maybe you believed me? Just like some people thought I was going to build a Duck-Face Dwarf Automaton? I will tell you now my friend, over a cup of chai, that I have no inclination to do so. It was, as we say here in Thule, a ioke. We also say iam instead of jam, in general that is, I am generalizing.
Generalizing
Easter obviously has it's roots in many parts in Europe in the form of some pagan thing (Eöstra, some form of Godess I think). In good old Sveeed-eeen where ...
... this is happening (we are at number four currently, but just in it's infant stage, hence this wonderful mixture of weak men and hard times). But as I was saying, in Sweden we have the eggs and hares and later the bonfires (Valpurgis as well you know) and the witches go to some traditional pace for a big party etc, so everything is very Eastery. Abrupt end, my train leaves in 30, press the panic button, oooh-myyy-goood!
So that's it for this weekend. Don't forget to comment, subscribe and eat eggs!
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