I grew up in a big family, and my parents always had an open house. In 1971 they realised that there were not enough days during Christmas to invite everybody to our home. My granddad was a school master and for one night every Christmas mum and dad hired the gym at the school where my grandparents lived. The gym was big enough to invite our huge and fast growing circle of friends and family.
8 years in a row my parents hosted their huge Christmas party there. Then my granddad died and no party was held.
20 years ago the next generation took up the tradition again, and now we come together every year during one of the Christmas days.
The annual party has been celebrated several different places, but last night we were back in the same old gym at the school where my grandparents lived. Where I spent so much of my childhood. Some of the buildings were gone, new had come, but the old gym was just the same. And the row of paintings of the old school masters was still there, granddad Johannes the nicest among all the old men.
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Photos: we all bring food to share at the party. The first photos show the creamcake I made. The last photo shows my dad in front of the painting of my granddad.
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Blog of the week: It is time to lead you over to another of the blogs I visit frequently. This time I want to guide you over to Leikur og List where Mo'a, who now lives in the US, shares alot from her Icelandic background. If you scroll down to her post before Christmas Day you will find a series of lovely information about the Icelandic Jolasveinar.
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Rochambeau had a question yesterday about how we celebrate the Christmas days in Norway. I will try to come back to that question tomorrow.
