A Very Crappy Christmas to you, too!

So a friend of mine is going to Barcelona with her fiance over the Christmas break. While there, she told me, she plans to purchase a Caganer.

Or, in the vernacular English, a Shitting Shepherd.

When she told us about this at lunchtime yesterday, one of my colleagues and I exchanged incredulous looks and in unison said "did she just say...?" and, oh, yes she did. Apparently, this is a Catalonian traditional addition to the Nativity Scene - a shepherd taking a crap in the presence of the Holy Family.

I'm... amused by this, now. At first, I wasn't sure how to feel - I mean, I was raised with the Christian traditions, devoid of the Christian religion. We did Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy (although, I'm not too sure that's a Christian one) just to appease both my grandparents and our childhood greed. Who doesn't like presents, right? So the little Pooper by the Manger seemed, well, vaguely sacreligious to me. Then, I considered that Spain is largely a Catholic country, and figured that if they didn't have a problem with it, far be it from me to take issue with the l'il pooter.

Ah, yet another quaint European custom...

Communique from Cookie Central

Hello everyone! I'm still alive, but I'm baking cookies and not to be disturbed. So far, I've made Fudge Drops (a new recipe, and OMG yummy), Russian Tea Cakes, and Gingerbread People. I've got another couple of batches of yumminess still to go - Chocolate chip, Peanut Butter blossoms, Pretzel Snaps, and Iced Butter Cookies.

Can I just say here that this level of holiday baking is decidedly NOT NORMAL for me, and I'm wondering where it's all coming from psychologically? I've even managed to keep my hands out of the cookies, except for the obligatory Quality Control check from each batch. This is also NOT NORMAL for me.

Hmmmmmmm. Pondering... Could it be? Perhaps?

Sublimation?

The Return of my Bien-Aime

Disclaimer: this is not my real life. I've been reading so much, er, fiction, recently, that I have to have an outlet. This is it - my fiction. Enjoy it or run screaming from your computer screen. Either way, it's better than that pic of Bourdain that I had up here for a couple of weeks...

It has been a while, and we are awkward as we negotiate our encounter. Who is responsible for making the first move? Who is the taker and who is the taken? Questions, second-guesses, the uncertainty begins to set in as no one will move. In the end, it is more than I can bear, and I step up to him, a silent plea in my heart for his response.

The softness of his lips against mine is like balm on my soul. Gently catching and parting, we communicate our desire through their tentative and tender movements. Our eyes are closed as our mouths mesh and meld, blinding us as we slide our eager fingers over one another’s familiar contours.

Mine is the first moan to escape, as my spirit flies free and wild, exulting in the joy of being wanted. His follows soon after, as my hand cups him boldly through his jeans. I topple my bien-aimé back onto the bed with a grin. Shoving up his shirt, I busy my mouth with dropping open-mouthed kisses on his stomach. His sighs as I press my face to his abdomen are sweet to my ears. My fingers slide further up under his shirt to sift through the hair on his chest, raking a flat nipple. Leaving a damp trail, my tongue skims up the ridge of his ribs to toy with that nipple, provoking a stronger response – a groan pulled from his throat is my reward.

Eyes open this time, I straddle his hips and lean in for a blazing kiss. Tongues that were timid earlier are now venturesome, and strain against each other, twisting in the passion now ignited. His mouth is delicious, minty and male, but it is a different taste that I crave today. Gliding my mouth south, pausing to leave my invisible mark here and there, I feel his body jerk as I imprint a soft kiss at the crease where his leg meets his groin, just visible above the low waistband of his jeans. Almost gleeful in anticipation of his reaction, I undo the button and zipper, and smooth my hands down his thighs as I smother my smile low in his stomach.

Ah, my bien-aimé, it is good to have you back.

Christmas Meme

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Wrapping paper with ribbons unless it's an awkwardly-shaped gift.

2. Real tree or artificial? Real tree.

3. When do you put up the tree? Early to mid - December.

4. When do you take the tree down? As soon as I can get away with it.

5. Do you like eggnog? Yes, but only the non-alcoholic kind.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? None of them stand out, really. I got a bicycle one year.

7. Hardest person to buy for? My stepmother - she's a tricky one.

8. Easiest person to buy for? My stepfather - get him a Border's gift card, and he's a happy fellow.

9. Do you have a nativity scene? Nope. Not Christian. I do Christmas for Santa.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Mail, when I remember.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Exercise equipment from the WCM.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? There are lots. I've been watching "The Holiday" recently. I like Miracle on 34th Street, Love Actually - but it's not really Christmas until I've seen Frosty the Snowman.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? Black Friday.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Um, guilty. But it's always in addition to whatever else I'm giving that person, and not as a substitute for a proper gift. Does that make it better?

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Christmas cookies, and whatever my Dad's making for Christmas dinner. The man's an amazing cook.

16. Lights on the tree; colored or white? White

17. Favorite Christmas song? Oh Holy Night - Modern; In Dulce Jubilo - Classical; Dominic the Italian Christmas Donkey - Zany.

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Stay home.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer's? yep.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Star.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? The WCM & I exchange one on Christmas Eve. We open the others with Miss Peanut as a family.

23. Favorite ornament theme or color? We're girly in my house - our tree has white lights, pearl garlands, and Victorian doll ornaments.

24. Favorite for Christmas dinner? Whatever my father makes - seriously. Usually, though, it involves some variety of Roast Beef.

25. What do you want for Christmas this year? I have every material thing I could ever want already.

26. Who is most likely to respond to this? Anyone needing blog fodder, like me!

Complimented

A student of mine just paid me a very nice compliment. She said:

"Madame, you've got mad dress game."

I'm glad I speak teenager.