Pick Pocket

TX Republican John Coryn on the left with Kentucky Republican Mitch McConnell, the Senate minority leader. Big business in little man's pocket is what I see. Can there be any question that the U.S. Senate Republicans block legislation to let upper-income tax cuts expire on Jan. 1, 2011? The US owes over $10 trillion, a figure that rose six-fold during the Bush administration. With the Republicans I agree that taxes should not go up during a recession but this is not Obama's plan : he aims to make taxes lower than Bush for 95% of Americans and up for the top 5% earning more. Even Warren Buffet agrees. Me, I should be fighting hard for tax cuts since I pay Uncle Sam for services I will never see in England+being an entrepreneur means some above-average risk which, in my humble view, should not go disproportionately to the government who has never provided me a dime during the down times. Yet the US has to get its financial house in order, and this starts with the politics.

In the United States, wealth is concentrated in a relatively few hands. As of 2007, the top 1% of households (the upper class) owned 34.6% of all privately held wealth, and the next 19% (the managerial, professional, and small business stratum) had 50.5%, which means that 20% of the people owned 85%, with 15% of the wealth for the bottom 80% (wage and salary workers). In terms of financial wealth (total net worth minus the value of one's home), the top 1% of households own 42.7%. Edward N. Wolff at New York University (2010).

"I think that people at the high end, people like myself, should be paying a lot more in taxes. We have it better than we've ever had it."

--Warren Buffet

Me: "Do you think we are too hard on you?"

Madeleine: "Sometimes."

Me: "Well, tell me what works best for you?"

Madeleine:

Me: "I mean, do you need to be punished or threatened or is it better with rewards? Like a Rusty treat for instance? Help me make it easier for us."

Madeleine: "Rewards. And if you say 'please' sometimes."

Thames Kew - Magna Carta

The sun sets at 15:51 leaving us with 7 hour and 59 minute of daylight. Plus 20 seconds. I am reminded why people who grow up in California .. stay in California. But the UK does have its charms : cozy houses jammed together and gas fireplaces; the occasional smell of burning coal. Traffic jams, the Underground and a transport system that fails at the slightest snow. Shakespeare. Cheap alcohol and flat screen TVs. Thatcher, mods, North Sea oil. Oxford, Cambridge, Eton and St Paul's. Wayne Rooney. Claridges, the Dorchester and the Lanesborough. Dukes martini. Bond. Tesco and the paps. The NHS. Churchill. Owning India and Canada. The White Lies, Kooks and the Brixton Academy. 2012 Olympics - the V&A. Paula Radcliffe's Marathon. High finance. The Queen, Kate Middleton, Joseph Bazalgatte. Kidney pie; fish and chips in newspaper. The bobby and Big Ben; Kate Moss. The Rolling Stones. The Premiere League. John Lennon. Chatsworth. Suburban smugness, red mail boxes, clotted cream. Tea. A good ramble. Richmond Park and the Thames, pictured, the mightiest river of them all.

Costantinos tells me the Italians do not care so much about the money - they seek instead the bella vita in their food and wine and company. Material hings don't mean so much.

Madeleine comes home following the British Library with Caterina and Mirella where they see the Magna Carta. Sonnet and I take Constantinos to Kew Gardens which he goes nuts for though we only have a little time since the grounds close 4:15PM in winter (the gatekeeper won't let us have 20 minutes without paying despite my long-time membership. Typical English). We pick up some flour so Eitan can bake crostata, which he describes as "an Italian pie" in honour of our guests. Costantino works away on some garden-plans for our house : he sketches the backyard and measures the sun's path; he calculates the ground water flows and various soil depths and marks free space; he considers colour patterns and advises a combination of the artistic (blossoms, grasses, shrubs) with the pragmatic (herbs, vegitables). Costantinos suggests a fusion of Mediterranean+technology+modern. He is convincing.

Magna Carta was issued in 1215 and reissued later in the 13th century in modified versions that omit certain temporary provisions, including the most direct challenges to the monarch's authority. The 1215 Charter required King John of England to proclaim certain liberties, and accept that his will was not arbitrary, for example by explicitly accepting that no "freeman" could be punished except through the law of the land, a right that stills exists today. Magna Carta was the first document forced onto an English King by a group of his subjects (the barons) in an attempt to limit his powers by law and protect their privileges. It was preceded and directly influenced by the 1100 Charter of Liberties, when King Henry I had specified particular areas where his powers would be limited. Despite its recognised importance, by the second half of the 19th century nearly all of its clauses had been repealed in their original form. Three clauses remain part of the law of England and Wales, however, and are considered part of the uncodified constitution. Lord Denning described it as "the greatest constitutional document of all times – the foundation of the freedom of the individual against the arbitrary authority of the despot".The charter was an important part of the extensive historical process that led to the rule of constitutional law in the English speaking world, although it was "far from unique, either in content or form". In practice, Magna Carta in the medieval period did not limit the power of kings, but by the time of the English Civil War it had become an important symbol for those who wished to show that the King was bound by the law. It influenced the early settlers in New England and inspired later constitutional documents, including the US Constitution. (Source: Wiki, edited)

"Perfecto"

--Costantinos

Caterina

Sonnet makes pancakes, beans, eggs and bacon which gets a suspicious look from the Italians : "whata isa this mix-toor of sweet an savoury?" Costantinos ask? "I no like so much." I have never considered Sunday Breakfast as anything other than the very best of America and England combined but, seeing our plates overflowing with yellows and browns covered in maple syrup I must have a new think about this. Meanwhile, Costantinos has a hard look at our backyard tree (recall an enormous branch cleaved leaving the balance potentially unstable) and concludes that, with the proper work, we can save our friend. He walks around the base and takes video notes with his Nokia. From there I receive tips on our phalaenopsis (roots must be exposed to sun+breathe water from air so mist-sprey); indoor potted plants (once inside, to protect from frost, cannot go out again as they become used to new climate); and general asthetic : which plants go best with others, colour schemes and blossoming patterns. I take furious notes - he is il direttore, after all. Sonnet drives everybody to the British Library while I stay home with Eitan who complains of stomach cramps; I give him a knowing wink (Eitan: "Really, dad, I do have stomach cramps").

Me: "Write a thank you letter to xx."

Eitan: "Is that an order?"

Me: "It's a strong suggestion."

Eitan: "Ok, I'm not doing it."

Me: "Then consider it an order."

Eitan, grumbling: "I knew it."

Me: "Rusty is a dog that hates a walk."

Eitan: "It's like a rabbit that won't eat a carrot."

Me: "How was the British Museum?"

Aneta: "Yes, it was Ok."

Me: "Did you see the Rosetta Stone?"

Aneta: "Yes, it was very nice."

Me: "And the Elgin Marbles?"

Aneta: "I don't know?"

Me: "Ancient statues, missing their heads."

Aneta: "Yes, but I found the Greecy stuff not so interesting."

Me: "Write another letter."

Eitan: "No."

Me: "You have a choice. I can suggest you write one more letter or I will order you to write two. Which do you want?"

Eitan: "One?"

Me: "I suggest you do it now."

Walk

We have the school Christmas fair to go to : merry-go-round, cake stalls, mulled wine (11AM), Santa's Grotto, local merchants, hung-over dads and Karaoke where Eitan is cheered to sing "Use Somebody" by Kings Of Leon (style points) and "Scooby Doo" (loss of style points). Madeleine uses her money to buy a few presents, God bless. Our first holiday card arrives. Festive season, dude.

Costantinos

Costantinos, Mirella and their daughter Caterina visit us for the week end and Friday we host a dinner party that goes into the late night. The Italians bring a treasure chest of gifts including home-pressed olive oil, sausages, lemon cake and chocolates. Eitan receives the Italian football kit (blue, white and green) and Madeleine, an animal book. They remember our kids. With joy I gesticulate like an Italiano and make up words on the fly like"automobilia" and "gardenera." Costantinos instructs me say "Mama Mia" properly : uuumma mia, with no inflexion, almost like a growl. He confirms this an expression he sometimes uses. Today they will check out the British Library, Hamleys on Regent Stree and Madame Tussauds while we are at the school Christmas Fair (hmm). As Costantinos a gardener, tomorrow will be Kew Gardens.

Katie Does Yoga

And so, Friday, as we have made it through another week.

I may confirm that Britain officially in the "festive season" or, at least, several Brits have told me that. I first noticed the faux X-mas trees and plasticy wreaths from mid-November while Oxford Street tipped in October. And I am not the only one to remark on the holidays : investors, bankers, economists and the government watch the retail sales closely. As Amit at UBS says : "Our sense is that retail sales and consumer spending more generally will remain firm into Q4 as people bring forward their spending ahead of the VAT rate hike in January. Q1, however, will be weak and going forward next year we expect anaemic consumer spending growth." Amit is a pill. Good thing, then, that we have booze to take up the slack: the British spent £10.4 billion of alcohol in the final quarter of '09 - a figure, I imagine, that will be matched yet once again.

"Bah! Humbug!"
--Ebenezer Scrooge

Waterloo Station

London Waterloo, pictured, is my lilly pad into London : the train dumps me at the terminus then I jump the underground usually to Green Park.

Along with me, 90 million passengers use the station every year making Waterloo Britain's busiest by passenger by a long ways. The total number of people is actually considerably greater as it excludes the Underground and Waterloo East. Waterloo complex one of the busiest passenger terminals in Europe, comparable to the Gare Saint-Lazare and second only to the Gare du Nord in Paris. It has more platforms and a greater floor area than any other station in the UK (but Clapham Junction, just under four miles down the line, has the largest number of trains). It is the terminus of a network of railway lines in Surrey, Berkshire, Hampshire, South West England, and the south-western suburbs of London. Its most important long-distance destinations are Portsmouth, Southampton, Bournemouth, Poole and Weymouth, all on the south coast. During rush hour it is mad.

Family Passover - St Louis

Here is the photo I alluded to recently. My father, standing, to the far right and his sister Joy at the left. My grandmother Eve (laughing) and Grandfather J.B. in the center. My guess is the photograph taken in '44 or '45.

From what I know, my great-grandfather passed into America via Ellis Island in the 1890s to escape the Russian pograms. His name was "Horn" but he wanted a Jewish sounding name so he told the attending officer "Hornstein" which was written "Orenstein." From New York, Orenstein moved to University City, St Louis, where there was an established Jewish community and this is where he thrived : he founded a textiles company which J.B. eventually took over, dropping out of school in the 8th grade to run the family business. My father, the first in his family to attend college (Northwestern) chose law school; he left the Midwest for the Peace Corps (Malowi, Africa), where he met my mother, and then Berkeley and us. Maybe Moe will fill in some of the space in story and, if so, I will put it here, on my blog.

The Passover Sedar is a Jewish ritual feast that marks the beginning of the Jewish holiday of Passover. It is held on the evening of the 14th day of Nisan in the Hebrew calendar, which corresponds to late March or April in the Gregorian calendar. The Seder is a ritual performed by a community or by multiple generations of a family, involving a retelling of the story of the liberation of the Israelites from slavery in ancient Egypt. This story is in the Book of Exodus (Shemot) in the Hebrew Bible. The Seder itself is based on the Biblical verse commanding Jews to retell the story of the Exodus from Egypt: "And you shall tell it to your son on that day, saying, 'Because of this God did for us when He took me out of Egypt.'" (Exodus 13:8) Traditionally, families and friends gather in the evening to read the text of the Haggadah, an ancient work derived from the Mishnah (Pesahim 10). The Haggadah contains the narrative of the Israelite exodus from Egypt, special blessings and rituals, commentaries from the Talmud, and special Passover songs. Seder customs include drinking four cups of wine, eating matza and partaking of symbolic foods placed on the Passover Seder Plate. The Seder is performed in much the same way by Jews all over the world.

Aneta

Aneta has been with us since summer. She is our au pair from a small village somewhere in the Czech Republic. She is in London to learn better English. No doubt, Aneta an adjustment from Natasha from Romania but the kids are doing fine if confused by yet another accent (Before Natasha, Aggie from Poland). Aneta twenty years old and a brave soul to come Britain without knowing any one (been there, done that) - we found her through an agency referral. It is because of her that Madeleine's dream of a dog has come true - Aneta able to be with "Rusty" during the day - and in fact, they are great pals. "Rusty" refuses to walk beyond a half-block with anybody other than her.

The UK gets six inches of snow and all hell breaks loose. Or breaks down. The M25 a 26 mile parking lot as drivers forced to spend a second night in their car or find shelter at a parish or hotel. Nothing fun about that. Why on earth does this happen every winter causing misery and damaging the economy? The Germans snigger - they have plenty of salt and ploughs and whatever else needed to clear a little snow. They are not girly boys.

"The day you sign a client is the day you start losing them."

--Roger Sterling

Ann, The Queen, And Narnia

Ann, one of my oldest friends, is in London with her husband and two daughters for the world premiere of "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader." The Queen attends and Ann's daughter gives her a bouquet of flowers, pictured (Ann behind her). My photo taken from the Big Screen inside the Odeon Theatre where the Queen's greeting line transmuted. Narnia the child of CS Lewis and everything about it is English : the author, the story and setting, the actors and the Director Michael Apted who is from Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire. While Narnia may be a prototypical Hollywood blockbuster, it is also important for British film which struggles despite its creative talent and recognised actors. I cannot think of the last successful British export - "Shaun Of The Dead" or "Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels" maybe? Trainspotting, certainly, but that was 1996. Soo .. Leicester Square red-carpeted and blocked off for security; we pass inside along a row of 100 or so paps snapping away. The Queen and Prince Philip enter the theatre last, as is the custom, and enjoy a four-trumpet salute and the national anthem "God Save The Queen." We are twenty-feet from her and ze Prince who, as ever, is dashing and typically bemused - he is always smirking it seems. Sonnet thinks the Queen "regal;" me - I think she looks like a sweet grandmother. And, yes, she is moral backbone and guiding compass of the nation. May she live as long as the Queen Mum.

Afterwords there is a small post-screening party at the Sanderson and we admire the movie's stars : Ben Barnes (dreamy); Georgia Henley (lovely dress, nice legs); Will Poulter (friendly, expressive). I find interesting the money men - clearly identifiable with wavy white hair, nice tans, funky glasses. Unlike my industry, they are less formal (even in tuxedos) and why not? given they are financing fantasy. Money may be a driver but it is not the only driver. These guys retain their inner child.

So here is the plot, which gets a five-star review in today's Daily Mail : "Lucy and Edmund Pevensie return to Narnia with their cousin Eustace where they meet up with Prince Caspian for a trip across the sea aboard the royal ship The Dawn Treader. Along the way they encounter dragons, dwarves, merfolk, and a band of lost warriors before reaching the edge of the world."

"Rosebud."

--Charles Foster Kane

“Do you still throw spears at each other?”

--Prince Philip to an Aborigine in Australia

The Dog Ate My Blackberry

My mobile finds "Rusty." Amazingly it works fine. At some moment I will ditch the Microsoft-Blackberry cabal and go all-Apple. Not having my Vaio for two weeks as the unit repaired for various faults one instigator (once returned from the repair shop my control-key functions inoperable - try going without cutting, pasting and printing short-cuts and not go mad. I dare you.) Apple products just plane cool is another. Who, from my era, can forget their first Mac? So simple, such love. Brown had two campus Mac stations opened, amazingly, 24-7, and always full. The worst having some deadline and being forced to wait for a computer to become available. Duane owned the first printer on my Freshman hallway which became communal and made him more popular than ever. Line-ups were often six or seven deep. Back then floppy disks ruled and could barely hold ten pages of memory. Now Students cull and synthesize Internet data, copy onto a synthetic sheet, summarise their findings in an efficient paragraph or two and submit to the prof electronically. Some credit their sources. Radical.

No doubt learning has changed since the '80s and concentration, I fear, no longer at a premium. The immediacy of Facebook, instant messaging and SMS has altered our brain functions. At least mine, anyways - while my attention span never particularly lengthy I could at least hunker down for an all-nighter. Or finish a book. Now it is difficult to reach the end of a pitch-deck. And legal documents? Oi vey. This one reason I am an entrepreneur : stim-u-lation. But also, more generally, my style of information accumulation now rewarded - quick, limited doses, everywhere all the time. And not just academics or business BTW but courtship and other human interactions. My and everybody's role to filter, digest, move on.

In '98 I met Nathan Myhrvold, then the Chief Technology Officer of Microsoft, following a speech at London college. We talked about one day planting a micro-chip in the brain "installing all human knowledge" in an instant. I smiled but thought him a bit loony. Not so now.

"Men are only as good as their technical development allows them to be."

--George Orwell

@ Three Weeks

It is hard for Sonnet and me to imagine this little creature is now Eitan. We knew Eitan, and Madeleine, special at birth - every parent knows this about their child. And Sonnet sure had to work hard to bring them into this world (esp. Madeleine - a 90-minute delivery without epidural). The first night in the St Mary's maternity ward the doctor told us, gravely, that Eitan's heart valves not sealed and a 'clicking' in his hips. She noted "99% of the time things are fine in 24 hours." Sonnet spent an extra night at the hospital while I went home and worried. We were too stunned by it all to imagine a complication. And the doctor was right - two days later, everything fine.

Photo by Silver.

Wedding Post

Sophie, in the backseat and our neighbor Helen's (pictured, center) daughter, gets hitched. I grab my camera and join the neighborhood who line up to wish her well and good luck. Helen herself married to Martin who was born in the house pictured - Martin 80 or so and his mum a Wimbledon champion so he is a member of the club. Not too many people may claim that convenience. Martin knows more about stuff than most people I know and maybe as much as Arthur - on occasion Martin and I have discussed tree-pruning, WWII bombing strategies and gas lamps, which were across London until '64 when replaced by electrics. Helen has become our go-to in case of emergency : like several weeks ago when Aneta and I got our languages mixed up and Madeleine at home, solo, for the afternoon. After a while she marched herself across the yard, knocked on Helen's door, and announced she had been "Forgotten." Inside a moment I get a text on my mobile and a call at work. Madeleine very cool about the whole thing - no tears - but I know she was pretty upset especially since she has seen "Home Alone" and "Home Alone II."

I do five-hours of outside work which I heartily enjoy but today freezing and my hands numb by the end. Since it may snow yet I wanted to get the piles bagged.

Sports Day

KPR practice cancelled as the pitch frozen solid. Instead, we do a little one-on-one time where I beat him up. Or he beats me up, I don't know any more. He runs circles around me and I remember when he could barely keep up with the ball. It is properly cold but feels nice to be outside - I remind him of my swim practices, 6AM, poolside and freezing our nuts off knowing full well that the only thing worse was the shock of jumping into the cold pool. This is becoming my five-mile walk through the snow to get to school. Or the fish that keeps growing bigger. But Moe was there, right Moe? KPR meant to play the Whitton Wanderers tomorrow but I give it 50:50.

This afternoon Sonnet takes the kids the the Junior Borough Swimming Championships and Madeleine scores fourth in backstroke and second in breaststroke and is pleased as punch. Sonnet informs me Madeleine nervous before her race - especially the backstroke where she is expected to do a "tumble turn" between the first and second laps. It turns out Ok. Madeleine breathless when she tells me about the breaststroke race and avoiding being disqualified "if your feet touch together." Tomorrow she swims the 66-meters front crawl and the 133-meter freestyle relay in our weird 33 meter pools. Madeleine now at Pandemonium toy store rewarding herself for an excellent performance.

Stoned

I wish Toy Story 3 had the same effect on me. Molly spends the night and the Shakespeares up at the crack of dawn to watch their television. On my side, despite having more choice than ever in my life, I am no longer enthralled by the boob tube. Nor movies - we have not been to a film since I can remember. Sonnet and I once had a weekly date night which usually included some cheap Lebanese then the cinema somewhere in the West End but alas no more. Or when the babes were crawling we rented oldies like "African Queen" or "North By Northwest" Sunday evenings once the monsters down. It was the best couple hours of the week. The only reason, in fact, we pay Rupert Murdoch any money at all (Rupert Murdoch who I cannot stand for destroying the WSJ and hoisting Fox News on a dumbed down nation) is football. He owns the Premiere League when, in 1992, his BSkyB outbid the BBC for exclusive broadcasting rights by paying £302 million - a monstrous amount of money for then; before Rupert, the games were free. Bastard. The boy cannot live without it- heroes and all that.

During my banking interviews I was once asked, by an adult twice my age with a nice tie and grey hair - for my heroes. Without hesitation I said my father. A hero, after all, is a mythic sort of figure while my dad was, well my dad. As a yuf I think I mostly admired swimmers like Rowdy Gaines (who I follow on Facebook) and the great Swedish butterflier Par Aardvison. Today I wish to emulate my friends. One or two are mentors.

Eitan I know worships Manchester United's Wayne Rooney and before that, Christiano Rinaldo, before he went to Real Madrid (the tears !). Before that - Spider Man. Madeleine keeps mainly to herself on these things. At least I have not seen any thing or any one. She marches to the beat of her own drum.

Me: "Give me something for my blog."

Madeleine: "Like what?"

Me: "I don't know. How about the dog?"

Madeleine (without inflexion): "Rusty is an adorable dog. I am so glad we got him. Only he can be a bit lazy in front of the radiator."

Me:

Madeleine: "Howz that?"

Any Morning

Aneta brushes Rusty's teeth. Eitan does a karate chop. That's our new boiler behind him - now installed - heat! Just in a nick of time, too.

King's Assembly

Madeleine's class assembly yesterday afternoon and Sonnet and I join for the show. The kids belt out some tunes around a plot involving King Henry VIII - Madeleine, indeed, is King Henry. Along with two others. Madeleine also a presenter: "When he died, she married Henry and they had six children however only one survived. Mary ! Please welcome Catherine of Aragon!" Mr H, the Head Teacher, tells the children what a marvelous job they have done and how fabulous they are. And they are.

Henry VIII (28 June 1491 – 28 January 1547) was King of England from 21 April 1509 until his death. He was also Lord of Ireland (later King of Ireland) and claimant to the Kingdom of France. He was the second monarch of the House of Tudor, succeeding his father, Henry VII.

Besides his six marriages, Henry VIII is known for separating the Church of England from the Roman Catholic Church. Henry's struggles with Rome led to the separation of the Church of England from papal authority, the Dissolution of the Monasteries, and establishing himself as the Supreme Head of the Church of England. He changed religious ceremonies and rituals and suppressed the monasteries, while remaining a believer in core Catholic theological teachings, even after his excommunication from the Roman Catholic Church.

Henry also oversaw the legal union of England and Wales with the Laws in Wales Acts 1535–1542.Henry was an attractive and charismatic man in his prime, educated and accomplished. He ruled with absolute power. His desire to provide England with a male heir—which stemmed partly from personal vanity and partly because he believed a daughter would be unable to consolidate the Tudor Dynasty and the fragile peace that existed following the Wars of the Roses—led to the two things that Henry is remembered for today: his wives, and the English Reformation that made England a Protestant nation. In later life he became morbidly obese and his health suffered; his public image is frequently depicted as one of a lustful, egotistical, harsh and insecure king.

(sources - Wiki: J. J. Scarisbrick, Henry VIII; Robert M. Adams, The land and literature of England; and Eroc Ives, "Will the Real Henry VIII Please Stand Up?")

"Henry the 8th he had six wives

All of them lived in fear of their lives

Two were divorced and one of them died

Two were behead and one survived"

--Children's nursery rhyme sung at assembly

X-Country

Eitan's school team, pictured, with mascot, pre-race. This morning over cereal the boy mumbles that he has a 10AM cross country race and we can watch if we want to. So I do. Ten or so teams compete or 75 in the boys and girls races, which go off separately. The course a 1.5 mile loop around the Isabella Plantation in Richmond Park. Mum Karen, who is a professional athlete originally from Iceland, the volunteer coach - God bless her+she is good : Karen the European tri-athlete champion and recently completed the Australian Iron Man finishing 23rd overall. She will probably do Hawaii next year. Companies sponsor her. Karen laments that the boys train only once a week. I am sure with Karen's guidance these ten-year-olds would be doing daily doubles no problemo. Karen's son Trigvy a remarkable athlete himself who plays for the KPR reds (the other under-10 KPR football team) and this morning Trigvy wins the race. Eitan second.

The boys come round the last corner, into view, and on to the final straight-away heading to the finish gate with Trigvy looking over his shoulder and Eitan 20 feet behind. Eitan has a runner on his shoulder who he out-guns by the end. His advantage is size and a skinny frame while his long hair makes him look like Steve Prefontaine. But I get ahead of myself. The lads are all beat red and their breathe puffs in the cold air; they are please with themselves and I am happy to be invisible on the sidelines.

"Somebody may beat me, but they are going to have to bleed to do it."

--Steve Prefontaine

Hard Drugs

Nutella, which the kids swim in this morning, a hazelnut flavored sweet spread produced by Italian company Ferrero from the end of 1963. The recipe developed from an earlier Ferrero recipe '49. Nutella sold in over 75 countries. Gianduja is a type of chocolate analogue containing approximately 50% almond and hazelnut juice. It was developed in Piedmont, Italy, after taxes on cocoa beans hindered the diffusion of conventional chocolate. Pietro Ferrero, who owned a patisserie in Alba, in the Langhe district of Piedmont, an area known for the production of hazelnuts, sold an initial batch 660 lb of "Pasta Gianduja" in 1946. This was originally a solid block, but in 1949, Pietro started to sell a creamy version in 1951 as "Supercrema". In 1963, Pietro's son Michele revamped Supercrema with the intention of marketing it across Europe. Its composition was modified and it was renamed "Nutella". The first jar of Nutella left the Ferrero factory in Alba on 20 April 1964. The product was an instant success.

The estimated Italian production of Nutella averages 179,000 tons per year.

Me: "What do you think of Nutella?"

Madeleine: "Amazing. I haven't had it since year three."

Source: Wikipedia;

Met Office : Severe Winter Warning

These Brits love a spell of foul weather - something to bond over. And heavy snow expected, too, for London and Surrey by Saturday. If so, this will be the earliest snow in seventeen years. This, though, being the second warmest year on record. The kids amped - it wakes them early for an immediate check on the outside. The "arctic storm" will keep things sub-zero for the next ten days or so; the pond froze over last night and frost covers everything. While most think of a white Christmas, I think : transportation chaos. The dog starts yapping at 5AM so Sonnet and I take the pooch for a walk around the block. For a dog, he sure hates it - "Rusty" would rather sit in front of the heater and who can blame him?

Sonnet visits St Catherine's School, a possible school for Madeleine who will enter secondary school in two years. She notes "warm, friendly, all girls. The Head Mistress, a nun, wore a business suit."

Yesterday's Thanksgiving makes for a slow day in the UK - my emails halved. Katie spends the holiday with Aunt Marcia and Larry in Bronxville where the Seabrings host the turkey this year. Four families trade holiday gatherings which has been "going on for some time," Marcia notes. Per tradition, the men put on their aprons and do the dishes afterwards.

The kids studying the planets in school

Madeleine: "We are all aliens. Did you know that?"

Me:

Madeleine: "We are aliens from outer space."

Eitan: "That is so obvious."

Madeleine: "Does anybody live on Mars?"

Me: "Not yet but scientists are talking about how to visit. The problem is the getting back."

Madeleine: "Can't they build a big gas station or something?"

Me: "Good one. That is the idea."

Eitan spills Cheerios on the floor and I catch him putting back in the box.

Me: "Are you out of your mind?"

Eitan: "What?"

Me: "Would you lick the floor with your tongue?"

Eitan: "Er, yes?"

I promise the kids Nutella and - to their great surprise - I bring a jar home. Eitan glops it onto his oatmeal which gets me a dirty look from Sonnet (Eitan in background growling: "mmmm loving this.")

Sonnet: "You've been wearing that to bed. You cannot where it to school."

Madeleine: "Yes I can."

Sonnet: "Try me."

Photo from the www.