Santa Claus is Coming to Town!

A note from the publisher: Hello readers! A most merrry Christmas to you and those that you love. I just wanted to start this post by thanking all of you who have been reading us at Pasturesfresh in our over 90 posts this year.

I’d also like to thank all commenters and likers, as well as all those who have physically told our writer(s) that they are doing a good job. It really helps to dispel the illusion of talking to an empty room, which blogging sometimes feels like.

Anyway, without any further notes from me, let’s begin. Today there’s a bit of a choice of tracks.

The year 1970
The band Jackson 5

A Motown Christmas song! There are a few Christmas songs with a similar style to Motown, Jackson 5 did a whole album, and then there was Darlene Love whom I wrote about here.

Something I’ve tried to stress throughout this Christmas Jukebox series, like an advent calendar of Christmas songs, is the sheer range and variety of Christmss songs. For instance, my post on Christmas wrapping, also involves Run-DMC literally rapping.

So yeah, I love the Jackson 5 version because it’s the first non-carol version I can remember. It’s all very fun and enlivening. There’s the moral message as in all of them, but it feel so playful here. Probably because it’s a kid telling you what to do. Always funny.

It’s like, “Okay Mr. Boss man 5 year old!”

The year 2011
The singer Michael Bublé

Michael Bublé is one of those singers I thought for quite a while was not really meant for me. He seemed like somebody targeted at women. Though that might be the case, there is something subversive about listening to things not aimed at you. Like being an atheist listening to hymns. Or reading the Bible when you should be reading something by Neil deGrasse Tyson.

His version here has a really nice swing feel. It never feels overdone either. It’s a bit retro but retains its style.

I fancy I’ll give his other numbers a go. Suggestions welcomed and encouraged.

(EDITOR: The autocorrect function does not want me to spell his name correctly, offering instead ‘Bible’ or ‘Bubbly’.)

The singer Bruce Springsteen

I’ve got some bad news for you here: it’s a live version. From what I can tell, though, that’s the best version. Also, because it’s Bruce Springsteen at a live show and he is a showman, it’s twice as long as the other versions.

But d’you know what? It’s Christmas! And people will put up with a lot at Christmas. Just think of Bruce Springsteen as a difficult relative, who maybe goes on a bit, but who you love regardless. Because he’s Family and actually pretty cool when you get down to it.

Perhaps better in small bursts, though. I wouldn’t listen to a full live album of his unless handsomely compensated.

So, in finishing up the series I’d like to repeat, as my publisher, that it has been a pleasure to write for you this year. I hope I’ve inspired others to think about Christmas songs and what the season means to them. I also hope people take on some of my ideas, Christmas as an ‘everything holiday’ and the Christmas song canon being in dire need of expansion. I’m sure you’ll’ve learnt something too, because I definitely learnt something writing them. Merry Christmas and a very happy new year!

The writer of this piece may be a bit addicted to writing now and doesn’t know what he’ll do on the outside.



The Christmas Cat

The year 1987
The singer Björk
The song Jolakoturinn

It was St. Thortakur’s Day, 23rd December, and the Icelanders’ Yule preparations were well underway. They’d bought in the lamb and most of the presents. But Jon Björnsson realised an issue.

“Did you get the kids any clothes?” He asked his wife, Dagny Helgusdottir.
She thought for a moment then replied, “Nah, I never got a chance.”
“But what about the Christmas Cat?!” Jon interrobanged, him being a traditionalist and afraid of the legend.
“Oh, I’m not doing that this year. I got little Björn loads of socks just last week. His hamper is bursting with jumpers.”
Jon wasn’t sure. You didn’t mess with tradition. Not when the Christmas Cat was involved.

Little Björn was 12 years old and out walking around the Esja, a volcanic mountain range near Reykjavík. He looked across the sparse landscape, epic in scale. Björn was cold, even though the snow had not yet fallen. That’s global warming for you. No snow in Iceland. His coat was thick, but second-hand and the zip didn’t fasten well.

Danger was prowling nearby.

A grey-black kitten, perfectly camouflaged against the rocky outcrops, tiptoed behind him. Can you ever imagine a tiptoeing kitten? It’s more terrifying than you might think.

The cat was hungry. It had to feed. Björn was an ideal mark. He was a good size, a bit fatty around the midriff in preparation of the season, and as yet had no clothes destined to be given to him. A perfect target.

Björn made his way home. The streets were busy, it was the last big day of Christmas shopping. The markets were thronged with hundreds of people in thick jackets, beanie hats, scarves, mountain gloves, sensible footwear. It’d be far too hard to get through it to get anything else. Poor bastards, he thought.

Björn saw his dad fighting through the crowds, empty-handed. What was he doing out? Probably forgot to get a present for Dagny.

“Hey dad, give us a lift, will you?”
Jon looked concerned. He wouldn’t be able to get into the shops again if he did. The cat probably didn’t exist but he wanted to be sure. Looking after his son in the real world seemed more important.
“All right, let’s go.”
So they walked to the car.

They put up the tree that night after a dinner of skate. Björn wasn’t a fan of fish but ate it anyway. Otherwise his dad would complain. He hated waste and loved tradition.

The tree was decorated with lots of Iceland flags (🇮🇸) and a star on top. Wrapped presents were then placed underneath it. Nothing looked like clothes.

The cat, now about the size of of a two-year old cat, smiled as it looked in the window. It was going to consume that child! Normally it couldn’t because Icelanders were careful to buy their kids clothes for Yule. She hadn’t eaten well in centuries!

On 25th December, she unflourished her wicked claws and scratched open the ground floor window. She raced towards the bedroom, keeping low to the ground to avoid any detection.

Jon and Dagny were watching TV. The cat eluded them by gliding behind the coat rack, and then keeping to the shadows in their dimly lit house. Candles made the job far easier.

As she approached Björn’s door, her mouth salivated. This was so exciting! She slid through the slightly open door and paced towards his sleeping body. She opened her mouth, set her legs to spring, and leapt!


This post is part of my Christmas Jukebox series, based on the Icelandic legend of the Yule Cat. It’s a cat who eats kids who didn’t get clothes for Yule. The song is by Björk and fabulous.

The writer of this piece seldom does fiction like this and thinks it’d maybe need more time. Still, it’s always fun to produce.

Where is Santa Claus?

The year 2003
The band Guster
The song ¿Donde Esta Santa Claus?

One thing to remember, and I think I’ve made it clear throughout this month in my Christmas Jukebox series, is that I properly adore Christmas songs. I like the feelings they bring up, and the memories. Their message of love and goodwill. I also love the variety of them. So today’s number is especially varied and should enter the canon as soon as possible.

If you have any control of your works’ Christmas playlist, add this tunes.

It was first a hit in 1958 for Augie Rios, who was only 12 years old at the time. I like the Guster version because of how summery it feels. It’s got the energy of a song from the Southern Hemisphere.

It’s warm there right now. I’m told the days are really long.

But it’s Winter here. We have 7 hours of daylight. We’re getting a fair bit into the Christmas season now, and a lot of people are getting a bit tired. Just think of the poor retailers and wait staff! They get all the repetition of Christmas songs with none of the choice. This is why it’s imperative to expand the collection as much as you can.

So there’s another one by Sufjan Stevens. I love how he he uses different instruments. It’s much brighter than a lot of the more wintery numbers that are standard. And what’s wrong with simulating a little bit of sunshine at this time?

It reminds me of some of the weirdest Christmas songs imaginable: those from the Bob’s Burgers Christmas episodes.

It has a lot more bongo than you’d think, but then you realise it’s just the right amount. Really pulls the whole thing together.

There’s as many different Christmas songs as there are Christmas traditions. So get out there and discover them!

Also, I need only 10 more likes till I get 400 for the year, so be a lamb and do your bit. Do also explore the rest of my stuff, it’s pretty tight.

The writer of this piece needs to move his jacket off a dining chair or his folks will have a go at him. On writing this above fact, he felt about 4 years old.

Good King Wenceslas

The song Good King Wenceslas
The version Irish Rovers
The year It’s a carol, it’s immortal

Possibly a shorter one as I’m enjoying Christmas with family, but do read on dear friends. Herein you might find something cool, well-told.

Now I’m a particular sort. I like to do things right. Hence, I started my Christmas Jukebox series with a list and, though it has developed and changed since, there are some songs that need to be included. This is one of them.

It’s a song of goodwill. The good King Wenceslas, the English form of the Czech name Václav (pronounced Vatslav), was on a trip when he found a poor man freezing in the snow. He takes him into his party and looks after him. The song is about looking past class differences and recognising our common humanity. A good message.

Wenceslas lived a fairly coloured life, having been a duke, then King, and then got messed around by his relatives before his brother eventually killed him. You can read more about that story here (Title number 5). Real Game of Thronesy.

Fortunately, my family are not nearly so murderous. Substantially less so, in fact. And so I’m having a very fun time with them. No power struggles to speak of thus far.

As a result, this is a short one, but quick. If you want more of your fix feel free to read more of my past things and, my dear WordPress readers, like them all! I want 400 by the end of the year and I’m up to 385.

Goodwill to all!

The writer of this piece is enjoying time with his family.

The Man With the Bag

The year 2012
The band Black Prairie
The song (Everybody’s Waiting for) The Man With the Bag

So this was a new one for me. I got a lot of the songs from this Christmas jukebox series from crowdsourcing ideas on Facebook from friends and family. A lot of the best ones were brought to me by my fiancée, though. She loves Christmas. She’s a fountain of inspiration. It puts quite a bit of pressure on me to produce something worthwhile – something readable. She reads them all so I don’t want to bore her. In addition, I need to provide something. Something special.

How can you compete against the man with the bag? He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake; he knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake. And that whole song.

How could anyone compete with that rush you got at Christmas time when you went into your living room to find the floor covered in presents? To find the carrot nibbled, the mince pie mere crumbs, the milk partly slurped. And every year, the man with the bag delivers. What a guy.

So you can’t really compete with that. But nobody expects total magic. People that expect to be surprised all the time and never are are probably a right hassle. I can hardly imagine the extent of the complaining. Expecting to feel magical all the time and then being disappointed is probably one of the great troubles of our age.

That and people who hashtag unironically.

Recapturing that essence of excitement is impossible, unfortunately, but the least we can do is capture an element of the magic. Gifting well is a skill. It takes a lot of effort and thought to really nail what a person wants and should have. It’s not a skill that I properly possess, historically speaking, but I hope this year I’m better.

Because in future years, I will need to become the man with the bag.

The writer of this piece recently sold a Christmas tree and the place now looks a little barer. He still presents one of our excellent Christmas decorations as the featured image above.