A Blessed Yule to All of our Friends!
of Flesh, Fur ~ Feather or Fin!
I have long-loved the tradition of gnomes, trolls, tomtes or tomtens...
nisse, elf, pixie or fae ~
those often-times helpful, but sometimes mischievous sprites that I believe are around us.
I wanted to share with you a few of my very favorite antique postcards depicting the little 'beings' that have captured my heart and imagination since childhood:
please enjoy their beautiful illustrations and sometimes cheeky humor ~
{all have images have been borrowed from Pinterest}
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| Sweet kitten waiting for cream. |
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| The Holly King. |
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| Yes, please feed the birds! |
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| {{I believe...do you?}} |
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| Hello! |
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| kind little thing ~ |
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| ...lending a hand {beak?} |
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| i see you ~ |
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| a Tomten and his julbock {julbock means 'christmas goat'} |
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| and another jolly pair ~ |
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| shhhhhhhh..... |
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| can you smell that coffee brewing? |
and here is a beautiful story of Tomten ~
very familiar to us here....
Tomten
Adapted by Astrid Lindgren from a poem by Viktor Rydberg
It
is the dead of night. The old farm lies fast asleep and everyone inside the
house is sleeping too.
The
farm is deep in the middle of the forest. Once upon a time someone came here,
cut down trees, built a homestead and farmed the land. No one knows who. The
stars are shining in the sky tonight, the snow lies white all around, the frost
is cruel. On such a night people creep into their small houses, wrap themselves
up and bank the fire on the hearth.
Here
is a lonely old farm where everyone is sleeping. All but one. . .
The
Tomten is awake. He lives in a corner of the hayloft and comes out at night
when human beings are asleep. He is an old, old tomten who has seen the snow of
many hundreds of winters. No one knows when he came to the farm. No one has
ever seen him. but they know he is there. Sometimes when they wake up they see
the prints of his feet in the snow. But no one has seen the Tomten.
On
small silent feet the Tomten moves about in the moonlight, he peeps into
cowshed and stable, storehouse and tool shed. He goes between the buildings
making tracks in the snow.
The
Tomten goes first to the cowshed. The cows are dreaming that summer is here,
and they are grazing in the fields. The Tomten talks to them in tomten
language. a silent little language the cows can understand.
“Winters come and winters go,
Summers come and summers go,
Soon you can graze in the field’s.”
The
moon is shining into the stable. There stands Dobbin. Thinking, perhaps he
remembers a clover field, where he trotted around last summer. The Tomten talks
to him in tomten language, a silent little language a horse can understand.
“Winters come and winters go.
Summers come and summers go,
Soon you will be in your clover
field.”
Now
all the sheep and lambs are sleeping soundly. But they bleat softly when the
Tomten peeps in at the door. He talks to them in tomten language, a silent little
language the sheep can understand.
“All my sheep, all my lambs,
The night is cold, but your wool is warm.
And you have aspen leaves to eat.
Then
on small silent feet the Tomten goes to the chicken house, and the chickens
cluck contentedly when he comes. He talks to them in tomten language, a silent
little language chickens can understand.
“Lay
me an egg, my jolly chickens, and I will give you corn to eat.”
The
dog kennel roof is white with snow, and inside is Caro. Every night he waits
for the moment when the Tomten will come. The Tomten is his friend, and he
talks to Caro in tomten language. a silent little language a dog can
understand.
“Caro,
my friend, is it cold tonight? Are you cold in your kennel? I’ll fetch more
straw and then you can sleep.”
The
house where the people live is silent. They are sleeping through the winter
night without knowing that the Tomten is there.
“Winters come and winters go.
I have seen people large and small
But never have they seen me.” thinks the
Tomten.
He
tiptoes across to the children’s cot, and stands looking for a long time. If
they would only wake up, then I could talk to them in tomten language. a silent
little language children can understand. But children sleep at night.”
And
away goes the Tomten on his little feet. In the morning the children see his
tracks, a line of tiny footprints in the snow.
Then
the Tomten goes back to his cozy little corner in the hayloft. There in the
hay, the cat is waiting for him, for she wants milk. The Tomten talks to the
cat in tomten language, a silent little language a cat can understand.
“Of
course you may stay with me, and of course I will give you milk,” says the
Tomten.
Winter
is long and dark and cold, and sometimes the Tomten dreams of summer.
“Winters
come and winters go,
Summers
come and summers go,
Soon the
swallows will be here.” thinks the Tomten.
But
the snow still lies in deep drifts around the old farm in the forest. The stars
shine in the sky, it is biting cold. On such a night people creep into their
small houses and bank the fire on the hearth.
Here
is a lonely old farm, where everyone is fast asleep. All but one.
Winters
come and summers go, year follows year. but as long as people live at the old
farm in the forest, every night the Tomten will trip around between the buildings
on his small silent feet.
The Winter Solstice is upon us!
Make Merry and welcome the days growing longer once again!
Blessings from the Farm
~
Lori
