Some Icelandic Christmas Folklore pt. II – Stekkjastaur AKA Yule Lad No. 1

Ogress Grýla had a bad temperament that also clearly showed in her demeanor. But no one could blame her for it. Try to guess just how aggravatingly stressful her situation must have been: two failed marriages, a third relationship with a slothful guy and stuck with a bunch of good-for-nothing males she had to support with her trade alone. Her offspring in particular must have irked her tremendously, if it’s true she used to lock them up during her meals — she probably just wanted to eat those juicy children in peace.

The Yule Lads, despite their criminal record was not that flattering according to common standards, were nothing more than a gang of pranksters and not at all hideously ferocious as their mother and pet — the Yuletide Cat, also known for his taste for children, especially if not properly dressed. Upon regaining their freedom, the Lads decided to leave the mountains and come to town. They started doing it for fun and to appease the hunger they had accumulated during their forced confinement, while their parents and cat where feasting; they continued doing it every year, mellowing over time, leaving presents to children who had been particularly good. To this day, each of them visits town on one of the thirteen nights preceding Christmas, leaving after fifteen days.

The first of them was Sheep-Cote Clod.
He came stiff as wood,
to pray upon the farmer’s sheep
as far as he could.

He wished to suck the ewes,
but it was no accident
he couldn’t; he had stiff knees
– not too convenient.

The first Yule Lad to come to town on the night of the 12th of December is Stekkjastaur (Sheep-Cote Clod). He sports peg-legs that would make Long John jealous, but that prevent him to bend his knees. He’s the terror of Icelandic ewes, whose milk he loves more than anything else. Too bad for him it’s not that easy to drink milk from its natural tap when you’re so badly impaired you can’t even bend enough to tie your shoes.