Interview with an Ogress

            Good evening readers, CB Smith here, filling in for Chris Hamm while he is on vacation. Tonight I am live from just outside Hólmavík, Iceland, known around the world for their famous Witchcraft and Sorcery Museum. Tonight we are not here for potions and spells but for one of the rarest and most sought after interviews of the century. The infamous Grýla, usually leaves her cave only at Christmas time to search for naughty children but tonight she has agreed to sit down with us at ‘Tis The Season so that the world can finally see what it is that drives this iconic ogress.



No photographic evidence was collected of Gryla however our reporter was able to make out this sketch after the interview.  Please remember her hands were frozen and she was nearly unconscious due to hypothermia.   Under the circumstances it’s quite an accurate depiction.



CB: Good Evening Mrs Gryla, or can I just call you Gryla?

G: Gryla’s fine.

CB: Eh, thank you for meeting with me tonight. You have a lovely cave here.  Do you mind if I have the recorder on?

G: Just no pictures.  If I find out you got some hidden camera in that thing….

CB: (laughs nervously) No, no!  No cameras, I promise.  So Gryla, according to Icelandic legend you have been seeking out naughty children to turn into a Christmas time stew since the 13^th century. Any particular bad qualities you look for when you go out kid hunting?

G: It varies from year to year.  The spoilt, thumbsucker, gimme gimme brats are usually too full of fat so I can’t take too many of them, lucky putrid things. On the other hand the pick pockets and runaways can be too stringy and sinewy.  It’s an art of balance really.

CB: If your stew tastes anything like it smells in here that must really be something.

(Long pause. Sounds of chairs scuffling)

CB: Right, with the current climate generally frowning upon making soup out of children have you ever thought of changing up your recipe?

G: Why should I?  Why does it always have to be me who changes? Huh?!  Years ago parents were begging me to take the rotten ones off their hands but now all of the sudden with the age of political correctness I’m the big bad witch just because once a year, ONCE A YEAR I FEED MY FAMILY…”

Leppalúði calls from back of cave: Gryla, remember your image.

CB: Was that your husband?

G: “harrumph” noise (assuming the affirmative).

CB: Um, Leppalúði is your third husband, correct?

G: Yeh, so?

CB: What happened to your first two husbands?

G: I don’t see how my personal life is any of your business.

(Giggles can be heard from the back of the cave)

CB: Right…um…are your boys back there too?

G: Yep.

CB: How is it being the mother of the famous Yule Lads?

(Loud thump as a spoon hits CB in the forehead and clatters to the gound)

G: (snorts) How do you think?

CB: I assume that was from your son known as Þvörusleikir or SpoonLicker as he is known to all the non-Icelandic folk?

G: Probably, hard to tell with so many of them.

(The Yule Cat comes form the back of the cave and sits at Gryla’s feet)

CB: Well, Hello pretty kitty (sound of chair creaking as CB reaches to pet cat).

Yule Cat: Hisssssssssssssssssssss!

G: Unless that natty sweater you have on is less than a year old I would recommend keeping your grubby mitts to yourself.

CB: Right…ok…. So, Gryla. There have been some recent accusations that you had something to do with last year’s volcanic eruption.

G: Now you hold on just one minute!  My agent told you the volcano was off limits.

CB: It’s just the Icelandic people thought it may be retribution for not letting you steal off with their naughty children quite so easily….”

G: I told you no volcano questions!  That’s it! This interview is over!  Leppalúði, get my lawyer on the phone and you GET OUT OF MY CAVE!

CB: But…wait. Um….

G: GET OUT!

CB: But, it’s -30 degrees outside and the snow plow isn’t coming back for 30 minutes. Can’t I… (sound of chair turning over and Yule Cat growling)

G: OUT!

CB: AHHRRGG!!! Get your cat off of me!  I’m leaving…I’m leaving.

(sound of large rock being rolled over cave entrance)

CB: This is CB Smith signing off from outside Gryla’s cave.  If no one hears from me I am most likely frozen and can hopefully be thawed out in spring. (sounds of teeth chattering) Someone needs to explain to me how Chris gets to go get his jollies in sunny Thailand and I get sent here to this arctic hellhole. Can anyone hear me?? Anyone??  Santa??  HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Update:  CB was rescued shortly after taping by the Icelandic Women’s Olympic dog sledding team.  After a few hours in a boiling hot bath she was revived intact with the exception of a few toes here and there.  The full effect of the frost bite on her feet has not yet been determined.  Thank you to all concerned.

Today’s blog has been brought to you by Role Reversals.  This post contains words by Clara Batton Smith and artwork by Chris Hamm.  Next post we return to our regularly scheduled program.