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Lille dukke

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Det er jo ikke annet enn utrolig barnslig å være så opptatt av en dukke på fem centimeter. Arvet og gammel, men for tiden et yndet motiv når jeg tar bilder med Iphonen og en linse som gjør at jeg kan gå på mikronivå.

Deretter leker jeg med bildene mens jeg sitter og glor på TV.

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Who

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WHO will remember her
when I am gone
no more ctrl alt
del to be done
NO
hunger and lust
in onomatopoetikon

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Julebukken/Yule goat #FolkloreThursday

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Today is the Christmas goat for some maybe one of those dusty straw things you can put on the Christmas tree (see here), for others a masquerade you do the time between Christmas eve and New years’ eve. This cheeky character was out on Christmas Eve, after it was dark and made noise on farms. One would put crosses around to keep him away, but if he arrived people had to let him taste the Christmas porridge.

The Yule Goat was like a man from chest and down, but like a goat on chest and head. Every village had a particular place where the Christmas goat lived and he always came the same way. He was out only during Christmas, then he walked very slowly towards the farm. The first house he visited was the mill. Then he went to the sauna (where he was for several days to wash himself clean) and at Christmas Eve he came all the way home to where people lived. He came and sat there while they cooked porridge. Did he not get any porridge, he could «shit» (literary) down the chimney.

Today’s folktale is from my book with erotic traditional folktales, you can read about it here and here.

The Yule goat (Kvideland 1977)
A girl sat grinding grains. It was hard work, but while she worked on and sweated and struggled, she suddenly saw a «horrible one». A large and ugly ‘one stood and stared at her. He smiled and was if possible even more hideous-looking. It was the Yule goat. He offered to take over the work for her, if he could sleep with her on Christmas Eve. This was an appalling thought, but the work was hard and the temptation was too great, so she agreed.

As Christmas approached, she regretted. The farmer noticed that she was no longer so keen in to work as she used to be. It was something that troubled her and finally she told him.

The farmer knew what to do. When Christmas Eve was there, he took a pot of tar, boiled it up and put it in front of the bed of the girl. When darkness fell, the Yule goat came running. He was in a hurry and threw himself against her bed. Straight into the boiling tar. Just as fast as he had arrived, he ran out the door and yelled:

«Ai, Ai the girl was hot.
She was hot, she was hot.
She was burning hot. »

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