Christmas in the country
I shouldn’t moan. I’m actually pretty well-prepared, unlike most years. I knew that I’d have a little less bandwidth than usual this Christmas so I started my Christmas prep much earlier than usual and it’s paying off. Or it would be paying off if I weren’t suddenly feeling like a novice cook getting to grips with the new electric Aga.
It seemed like a good idea at the time, and of course it is a more sustainable option than the old oil-guzzling, kerosene-stinking beast. For one thing we can switch this new one on and off at will like, well, a normal cooker. The difference is, of course, that the electric Aga ovens take a long time to come up to their correct temperature from cold and I haven’t yet managed to determine how long. So it’s a question of adding anything up to 8 hours to my cooking plans, which has put all of my timings out. Me being me I have naturally decided that it was imperative that I produce a sourdough recipe for the first time from a “foolproof” YouTube video.
You see, even that would have been OK if my first sourdough made here in Norfolk exactly to the recommended recipe had not come out as flat as a pancake, destroying my baking confidence. I haven’t yet managed to bake a gloriously-risen Insta-ready sourdough and it’s getting me down. Ask the good people on Bluesky why and they come up with all sorts of technical questions like the hydration levels and exact hours of fermentation and why is it all this difficult?
I suspect that Anthony, my first sourdough starter is too weak to rise to the occasion. I am looking askance at Anthony as I write. I think it might be time to dump him in favour of his bumptious countryside successor, Beatrice who, three days in is already ebullient and looking prematurely ready for action. I’ll report back with pictures next week. I imagine that many of you reading this are so over the pandemic-era sourdough excitement, but I was overseas during that time, OK?, so if you can do it I should be able to as well.
Sugar unfix
Having dieted down gradually and sensibly to fit into the frock that I could not be eased into, Scarlett O’Hara style, a couple of years ago I am now spending the next couple of weeks eating little but carbohydrates and sugar which we all know are super addictive. Feeling sorry for the reject chocolates bought up by Wonky, I bought a case. Bad idea. They were delicious. I’m now working my way through a festively large box of Lindt balls.
And the rest
I have been doing other things this week but I can’t really write much about them. Our carol concert went well and for first sopranos the descants are always fun to blast out. I do think that I was so exhausted by the end that I didn’t quite hit the final top G in Hark! The Herald squarely. You might sing thousands of notes but you’ll always remember the duff one.
Towards the end of the week, after endless mental wrestling I eventually submitted my application to stand as a councillor in the 2026 local elections. Given how much of my time and headspace will be taken up by the demands of the senior charity position, locally, that I’ve agreed to assume for the next three years that must take priority, I’ve been meditating on how I’m going to manage and any changes that might need to be made. I am daunted, though one of my colleagues has told me to stop saying that. But it will be fine because it has to be fine.
I haven’t wrapped any presents and our tree still languishes outside. And there’s another batch of mince pies to be made so I’ll stop there for now.
Have a very happy Christmas, if you celebrate, and also if you don’t. If you find Christmas difficult, or lonely please remember that you can call Samaritans on 116 123 day or night and someone will be there to listen without judgement.
With love
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