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Circa 1984

And where does the time go? In my case, the last 24 hours extra in Paris thanks to an unusual winter storm which dumps snow and cold on the indignant Parisiens (the ladies and their wedge heel knee-high fur boots slip and slide along rue du Faubourg St Honoree). The Eurostar cancelled and the airports closed. I bunker in a cozy hotel met this morning by a soft pink sunrise reflected from the white sidewalks and sandstones of La Cité.

Madeleine gets a hair cut which, I am told by Aneta, "Very short. Shorter than Eitan." I am as curious as you, dear reader.