#1 daughter brought the Littles over yesterday and we played for a while. The Littlest made up a hilarious game of putting on and taking off my glasses. It totally cracked her up.

A happy song for today, the last Sunday of Advent: “Love Came Down at Christmas” by Christina Rossetti in 1885. She may be best known for “Goblin Market,” but she also wrote “In the Bleak Midwinter.” The tune is “Gartan,” a traditional Irish air.

There is an alternate tune, and here it is in a Zoom concert. Zoom is helping us out a lot during the pandemic, allowing us to work and hold Sunday school classes and play games with our families and even to sing sort of together.

 

Singing in groups turns out to be one of the most dangerous things we can do. We’ve now had 19,000 cases in our county. It is still a beautiful day, a beautiful time of year, and a beautiful song.

 

Love Came Down at Christmas

1 Love came down at Christmas,
love all lovely, Love divine;
Love was born at Christmas;
star and angels gave the sign.

2 Worship we the Godhead,
Love incarnate, Love divine;
worship we our Jesus,
but wherewith for sacred sign?

3 Love shall be our token;
love be yours and love be mine;
love to God and others,
love for plea and gift and sign.

Today we light the Love candle for Advent, but it is also the 20th, the day when the Sausage Swiper comes down from the mountains to hang out until January 2nd, stealing sausages.

Here’s s poem about the Sausage Swiper, by Jóhannes úr Kötlum:

The ninth was Sausage Swiper,
a shifty pilferer.
He climbed up to the rafters
and raided food from there.

Sitting on a crossbeam
in soot and in smoke,
he fed himself on sausage
fit for gentlefolk.

We don’t have crossbeams above our fireplace, and all our sausage is currently in the freezer. Indeed, all our sausage is just breakfast sausage, which isn’t even especially for Christmas. My sister has been sending us packages from Swiss Colony for the past few years, so I didn’t think about it. See the little coins of sausage sliced up and snuggling with the cheese below? That’s the sausage of Christmas at our house.

I’m going to try to fix that error before Christmas Eve.

If I don’t succeed, I will blame the Sausage Swiper.