Heidschi Bumbeidschi

Heidschi Bumbeidschi

But Heiji Bumbeischi sleep for a long time 

the mother is gone 

she is gone and never returns home 

and leaves her little Büberl so completely alone 

But Heidschi Bumbeidschi bumbum, 

But Heiji Bumbeidschi bumbum.

But Heishi Bumbeidschi, sleep the sweet 

ones let them greet 

you They greet you and ask 

you if you want to walk in heaven 

But Heiji Bumbeidschi bumbum, 

but Heidschi Bumbeidschi bumbum.

Christmas Eve was lovely- a little long on the goose liver, but very pretty as always. I took a video and will try to post, but videos have never worked too well on the ol blog.  One of our favorite carols sung this night is from the 19th century, written originally in Bavarian/Austrian dialect. I never knew until this year that the song is is about mothers losing their children, back when infant mortality was high. Eventually it was turned into more of a lullaby for putting kids to sleep- and less about actual death. But this is why I love spending Christmas here: where else do you find nine course meals with goose liver, accompanied by Christmas Carols about dead babies? It's refreshing not to be coddled. 

We heard the usual speeches- an intellectual one from G about becoming more humane at Christmas, and Frau S. choking back tears as she thanked us. Then the main event- Luis, Frederick and the other two members of the retainer stealing team were appointed to give the Christmas speech. Too funny. None of these kids knows a Christmas outside of this hotel- and they talked about why they loved it. Frederick told about his jello suspended possessions and how this would not happen at another hotel; how this was a place that was safe for people and retainers alike. 

Lighting the tree with live fire; No sissy electric lights here. 

There was a new comer- a very young English boy who brought the house down reading a poem about memories of his youth. It was like Laurence Olivier in short pants. Then there were the usual assortment of little girls in dirndls who read from the bible, one of whom was in a state of panic because she had to read the word circumcision. Apparently the women from the children's play room (who hand out the roles) brook no squeamishness about an occasional Christmas penis reference. Like I said, there is no coddling here. 

Harumi gave me this hat from a company that is called Teton something, after our beloved Jackson Hole, with Japanese writing on the back. Thomas is trying to steal it from me, but I'll kill him first. 

I promise I will get some photos up soon, but now we must go to Church. xx

Wearing my favorite present, post dinner- a hat from Harumi

mini Laurence Olivier with the dirndl girls

Gifts in front of our door from Mrs. S