Pudding and Pie

I'm very proud of my son Laurence today. Last night he came home from Karate with his certificate for passing his test and moving to the next belt. He had done the test 2½ weeks ago, amid great stress. Laurence doesn't have much self-confidence and particularly when it comes to tests and exams. He was also convinced that he couldn't have passed. I don't think he believes it even now.
But Laurence's Sensei, William, has been a very patient man and has brought out the best in this him. And of course, Laurence has worked very hard and faced down a few demons.

In the book I'm reading, 'Woken Furies' by Richard Morgan, Takeshi has acquired a new sleeve. However he still feels afraid of heights. You might think that was a physical problem, and one that could be solved by getting a new body. But maybe Morgan is right, perhaps if you had it in your first body, the one you grew up in, it would become more of a psychological response.

If yesterday's food article dissed British food, today, an article in the Guardian reminds us of something that no-one does better than the Brits, the pudding. Since I've ruthlessly half-inched the picture from the article, I happen to know that it's a picture of sticky toffee pudding, not delicious chocolate pud as I had thought.
But it seems that Brits are no longer eating as much pud as before. I don't believe it personally, it seems to me that all the good supermarkets have some very up-market versions of the great British puddings, Spotted Dick, Roly-poly, as well as the ones I've already mentioned.
And for pity's sake, if I were there now, Sainsburys, Tesco, Waitrose and M&S would have whole rows dedicated to the great Christmas pudding in all its varieties.

I've talked about custard before, but on Sunday, two friends of ours who are Brits came over for Sunday lunch. We had blueberry pie for pudding, not British at all, but the four of us got through two cans of custard, now that is British. The best bit about the pudding is the custard.

We had a late-night meeting tonight at work. We dissected how Halloween had gone and started to look forward to Christmas. Apparently, we can dress the Nature House up for Christmas, we can have all the bits of Christmas that have nothing to do with it, but I can't run a Christmas school programme. I could talk about reindeer, or can I? Well maybe I can use the North American name, caribou. I can't talk about Saint Nicholas, but if I were to say Santa Claus...No, probably not. We can't say God, but we can talk about Mother Earth.

Oh well. This part of the year, the part I want to savour most, gallops by.