Eek guys look what I found yesterday on Amazon. Yes, while most of us idiots are still struggling with the intricacies of the bulb order, Raven is off and running, Ironwoman triathlete-stylie, towards the long-term goal that is a Happy Christmas.
I have to admit that Christmas cookery is practically my favourite subject for a book in the entire world, so she's onto a winner with me. But how do we feel about this turning up on Amazon on twelfth day of August? Okay, it's just pre-orders. But in my family, it's totally verboten to talk about Christmas until at least September the 1st, so Sarah R really is taking a risk there. (Although probably mostly with my aunty Jude, who has yet to tackle the subject of family christmasses in her oeuvre, that I am aware.)
It's really hard this time of year not to think about autumn and winter. It's pathetic, because in some sort of Zen way I should just be enjoying the moment. It's boiling hot sunny outside and the garden looks amazing because there's been so much rain - I can see twelve five-foot canna stems from where I sit typing. Yet there is winter, lurking at the back of it all. "After summer evermore succeeds / Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold", Gloucester says in Henry VI.
Given winter's obvious disadvantages, it's quite nice to be able to get excited about the Christmas book: I am really looking forward to getting my hands on it and seeing what's in it. But I'm also anticipating that slightly sinking feeling when I realise that Christmas à la Raven would be 300 times better than anything I can achieve. Hand-grown table centre arrangements, paperwhite narcissi everywhere, jam made of her own strawberries, ugh, I'm starting to feel nauseous already. I both want to be her, and don't want to be her. Help! How can I stop wanting to be Sarah Raven, and just be happy being me?
PS. One bit of consolation. Okay, I may not even have a husband, but SR's gave her a potato peeler for Christmas. Thank heaven for tiny mercies.
I gave up trying to be Sarah Raven when I discovered that not only is she a domestic goddess but used to be a GP so is also clever and unafraid of of a latex glove. I take my hat off to her – leather with hand-stitching, obviously.
Posted by: alex m | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 02:06 PM
I wonder if people stop her in the supermarket and ask both about troublesome moles and troubling moles?
Posted by: emma townshend | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 02:10 PM
And I thought T K Maxx were a bit ahead of themselves having their Hallowe'en decorations in stock!
I will never be Sarah Raven. Fortunately my husband would be happy with a slab of meat (of any provenance), a tin of Celebrations and a bottle of wine for Christmas dinner. This I can manage.
Posted by: Julia | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 02:43 PM
Noooo not Christmas - I am still waiting for summer!
Here it is forbidden to talk about Christmas until at least November 1st.
I would just like to be able to arrange flowers like Sarah Raven - probably I should grow some first!
Regards
Karen
Posted by: Karen - An Artists Garden | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 03:43 PM
Hrrumph, humbug!
Christmas doesn't happen until December in my household. The local garden centre last week had a BOGOF offer on Christmas Crackers. I ask you. I had to run past them to get to the till.
Posted by: VP | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 05:25 PM
Didn't Alan Titchmarsh write a Christmas Book? Lucy
Posted by: Lucy Corrander | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 05:59 PM
Bring it on!
Normally, I don't acknowledge the existence of Christmas until 24th December. However, this year I am the only one at work over the August bank holiday week, which has made me grumpy, meaning that the festive season is something to look forward to.
Posted by: HappyMouffetard | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 07:19 PM
That's the spirit!
Posted by: emma townshend | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 07:28 PM
Humph. Ms R pees me off. Not sure why. She's probably really, really nice (a whole lot nicer than me) but, I dunno, bit too Martha-ish for me I think.
Still, didn't stop me buying some of her seeds.
And what's all this about "boiling hot" weather??? Hmmm? I thought the whole country was having wind and gales as experienced at Chez Carrots today. Doubly peed off to find that, actually, some people are enjoying a summer.
Posted by: Mrs Be | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 07:38 PM
sorry, guffaw. That should've been "rain and gales". Makes it sound like we've some sort of flatulence problem here....
Posted by: Mrs Be | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 07:39 PM
'Boiling hot sunny'??! Oh please send some up the M40, Birmingham has been rancid today.
I get the same sinking feeling every time I open a Nigella Lawson book but I still can't resist. Just carrying it home from the shop makes me feel wholesome...even if my cakes never look remotely like the picture :)
Posted by: Deb | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 07:48 PM
Apologies for weather confusion. Actually I wrote this yesterday, but the piece took a while to wend its way through the Independent blogging system. Unlike normal blogs, things don't go straight up (which is why I put my Hampton Court photos on Baklava Shed to start with, as it was seven o'clock at night and they wouldn't have been posted till the next morning if I'd put them here).
Posted by: emma townshend | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 07:54 PM
PS I thought the whole point of Nigella was that every time I make one of her cakes, it looks EXACTLY like the one in the photo.
And for the record, it was very sunny yesterday. Before it started to rain.
Posted by: emma townshend | Wednesday, 13 August 2008 at 07:55 PM