Indeed it is. She does some things ok, but for the most part she’s a horrendous professor that has tenure.
He, sorry for creeping you out. I had no idea what to call this being in english, and so went with the rather vague “little gray man”.
I was refering to the common norwegian “husnisse”, described as a slightly dwarfish tiny littly man in grey clothing and with a grey beard. He lives in the attic/barn loft/storage shed or something similar, and is the source of the “good fortune” of a particular family. Traditionally, you have to leave a bowl of porridge or something similar for him from time to time, usually at christmas. If you annoy him, by keeping him up at night by being noisy, or disturb his home, or say bad things about him, he’ll start doing all sorts of things to get even, like making your food go bad, causing your livestock to get ill, and, I guess, keep moving your car keys around. He’s not dangerous, but he can be a touch crabby at times. And it doesn’t help to move if he gets angry, he’ll move right along with you.
Oh, and most of them like tobacco and really dark ale.
Wouldn’t proper deference more likely be to shove down as many spuds as you can hold, plus a little extra to keep the chill off the bones? Just saying this based on the Irish pubs I’ve eaten in.
Is this similar to a tomten?
In Dutch, it would be an kabouter; see this famous 30-year old book by Dutch painter Rien Poortvliet. The English word for kabouter is elf, brownie or gnome.
LOL. Worldwide pretty much, although they’re from Pamplona (Spain) originally. They’re called Pez (lit. fish) because they open and close their mouth like a fish 
I don’t see what’s wrong with being “American”. Specially since many of the Americans I’ve worked with didn’t even know where their grandparents were born, the maiden names of mother and grandmothers, of even how their parents met.
I have a lastname that might originally have been Drossel (since people at the Civil Registry didn’t ask “how do you spell it”, much less look it up in parish records, we have several different spellings floating around the family); it reached Spain via a French soldier who was hurt, got left behind and fell in love with a pair of black eyes. Do we have any traditions from Alsatia or Lorraine? Nope. If gramps hadn’t bothered investigate parish records, we wouldn’t even know where that strange lastname was originally or where it came from.
Another one of my lastnames is Italian. Many people fled Italy during the wars of unification; those from places that were part of the Crown of Aragon most commonly went to Argentina, including my (northern) great-somthing-father and his Neapolitan wife. Usually, ships en route from Italy to Argentina stopped in one or more Mainland Spain ports; thus, italian lastnames aren’t uncommon in Barcelona (again Crown of Aragon). My great-whatever were among those who stopped in Barcelona and never reached Argentina. Do we have any italian traditions? Yes… but you see, they are considered Barcelona traditions by now! Namely, having caneloni the day after christmas; traditionally, they’re made from the leftovers from christmas eve. Nothing else. Yes, I cook pasta and rice al dente… but that’s me, I definitely didn’t learn it from my mother (who overcooks) or her mother (whose tomato sauce is always undercooked).
What are easter peeps? I think Easter eggs are a northern european thing, we definitely don’t do it “here south” but I’ve seen references to them in English children books. I think that what your kid’s teacher wants is to have the kid say “oh, we do easter eggs and that came from england; we do christmas and that’s a christian tradition, it’s from a religion and not a ‘geographic’ culture…” something like that. To become conscious of the roots behind “america”.
Ah! Then there are the Peeps.
The Peep might truly define American – nay, United States – culture. If you haven’t had a Peep on Easter, you can’t call yourself an 'Merican, as our president would put it.
And to know a Peep is to be an 'Merican.
And in truth, it’s nothing more than an idea and sugar spun into a marshmallow shaped into a bird, Nava.
That’s the truth.
Sure, “tomte” is the swedish word. (Tomten, BTW, means “the tomte”. “a tomten” makes no sense.). “Tomt” means, well, the plot of land your house is in, your property. The tomte is an embodiment of your property. Leave it to the swedes to be practical about names.
No worries, Septima. Your little gray man doesn’t sound scary at all. I was unfamiliar with the tradition, and when I read your first post I thought “Why is he in the attic? Does he eat bad children? Creep around at night and stare at you while you sleep? What if there’s a little gray man in my attic?” Wigged me out a little.
Oh… I don’t like eating “masmelos” but they’re funny to play with. Thanks for the info, it’s the kind of thing that you can live in the US for five years and never find out (well, I did it, so it’s possible).
You can also base it on my mother’s cooking!