Just about every year I share some of my favorite non-traditional Christmas music. If you’ve been around a while, you have probably seen all of these before, but it’s tradition for me to share them and you might want to hear them again. If you’re new, I hope you enjoy them.

The Christians and the Pagans is my top favorite; I posted it a while back. but this is a close second. It’s definitely a redneck Christmas, so you may not resonate with it. My family of origin was Italian and we had our own style of eccentric tradition, but not so much like this. On the other hand, as an adult, I’ve hosted Christmas for the extended family of anybody I was involved with in December of a given year – first husband, second husband, long term boyfriend, and of course MP. I love Christmas and I loved having lots of people to share the day with. Other people’s famil ies come with their own unique flavor, and it’s often an interesting layering of tastes and traditions. So this video is just relatable enough for me to laugh at and still see some reflection of years gone by.

Or this might be more to your taste:

It needs no introduction. I used to have the CD this comes from… I’ll have to see if I can get the whole album online…

And this is amazing. Really, anything form Putumayo recording is going to be worth listening to. What are your favorite Christmas songs?

And here’s today’s fantasy:

Getting Ready

“Stop,” he said.

“What?” She didn’t look up. She had been baking cookies all morning and now she was starting to wrap the pile of presents hidden in the closet. She was tired and a little cranky. Her tone was a bit shorter than usual and she wasn’t smiling.

“Come here,” he said.

She huffed a little, “Darlin’. What do you need? I’m wrapping presents.”

It took her a moment to feel the silence in the room.

She looked up.

He was standing in the doorway, watching her.

She put the tape dispenser down. Bit her lower lip. “Sir? I didn’t mean – I mean – I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “I know. Come here.”

She walked toward him slowly, embarrassed that she had been rude. Her heart pounded. Reaching him, she stood silently, automatically putting her hands behind her back, head up and eyes down.

“How long have you been working on Christmas prep?” he asked.

“Oh, just since – ” she paused – “I guess just since – well since I got up this morning.”

He nodded. “Did you meditate this morning?”

“Um, well, I tried to, but, um, noooo, I guess not really.”

He nodded. “Let’s move to the living room.” He crossed the room quickly, seating himself in his chair, not the recliner, this time he chose the wooden straight back chair. He nodded to her, but she had already knelt at his feet.

“What did you have for breakfast?” he asked.

“An orange, Sir.”

He nodded. “And lunch?”

She bowed her head, “I haven’t had lunch yet.”

“It’s almost three o’clock. Have you taken a break? Gone for a walk?”

“No, Sir, not really. But there’s so much to do! And only a few days left!”

He nodded. “What happens if you don’t get everything done?”

“Well, if I don’t get everything done – I mean, if I don’t, well, it won’t get done.”

“And if it doesn’t get done, then what?”

She shook her head, “I – it won’t be done. I mean, we won’t have cookies or wrapped presents or…” her voice trailed off.

“And if we didn’t have those things, then what?”

“Then – well, I mean – I guess nothing would happen. But I love doing those things! And you like cookies and the grandkids do too and the presents and -” she glanced up at him and what she saw in his face stopped her.

“Hmmm. What happens if you overdo things and wear yourself out?”

She stared at the ground. “I don’t feel good. I get snappy. I have trouble sleeping.” she sighed. “I get myself in trouble.”

” Have you asked for help?”

In a low voice she replied, “No, Sir.”

He nodded. “You are in trouble,” he said. “We’ll talk about the not asking for help later. For now, let’s deal with the not meditating, not eating, pushing yourself too hard, and being snappy with your Sir. What do you think is going to happen next.”

“I think -” she hated saying this and he made her say it every time. “I think I’m going to get a spanking.”

“You are,” he said. “But that’s not what’s going to happen next. First, you’re going to eat lunch. I’ll sit with you while you eat.” She smiled at that, appreciating that she wouldn’t be eating alone simmering in guilt.

“Then,” he said, “You can stand in the corner and think about why you want to have a meditation practice in the first place and how your day might have gone if you hadn’t skipped that.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, wishing that he would stop there.

“Then,” he said, “You’ll get your spanking. On your bare bottom. After that, a little more corner time to think about what you could have done differently. And finally, a nap. At least 30 minutes, but even better if you sleep longer. Is that clear?”

‘Yes, Sir, it is clear. And – I’m really sorry. I won’t do this again.”

“I know you won’t.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, “At least not until you do it again. Now come on, let’s get your lunch.”

“Yes, Sir.” She started toward the kitchen, he followed.

“Just a minute,” he said. “You know, since you’re getting a bare bottom spanking anyhow, I think you should get ready for that. Pull your skirt up in back and show your bottom now. Here, go ahead and tuck it into the waistband. Good girl. Now we can get that lunch.”

to be continued…