A mouthful of Nutella from the garden

Next time we have Nutella — a food item I allow my children to eat every 6th Monday of the month – we will have a moment of silence.

This is to mark the rich contribution made by Michele Ferrero, the inventor of Nutella, who died this week.

And not just Nutella, friends, but Kinder eggs, which I have never ever fought with my children over, nor sold the car, nor mortgaged the house to pay said children whatever, I mean, whatever they may want for said surprise toy in the middle.

This is why, I suppose, Ferrero was worth $23 billion and I am worth slightly less, although in one of those wealth transference moments that surely will come sometime before I die, my children may pass on to me what they don’t need or what they don’t spend on all the Nutella that they don’t eat.

In either case, we have agreed on that moment of silence by the weekend.

(Ferrero, the genius, also came up with Tic Tacs AND Rocher chocolates, which The Children’s Mother happens to be very fond of, so much that whenever the dog and I share his house, Rochers are a sure-fire way to get out, at least when I can find them, which, in Uganda, of course, I can’t.)

The other news from this part of Africa is that it’s a balmy 25 degrees or so with a bit of rain.

Not that you need a forecast, or that you’d even believe the forecast if it was given here. You just know that in Uganda, after dry season, which it’s been for the last couple of months, it will rain. Often in biblical proportions.

This is why Jon and I were in the garden earlier this week, the plot that’s up the small hill that overlooks the blue (yes blue) roof of our Ugandan house.

Of course when in the garden I noticed that there was no snow anywhere (sorry to mention that), but even so the tomatoes haven’t bloomed yet and the leaf lettuce got barely one good cutting before shrivelling. It seems that watering in dry season is important and this is where Jon will have many good reasons why his father hasn’t ensured this has been carried out with greater diligence while waiting for all that rain.)

Jon did, however, harvest some baby carrots the other day when he had a day off from school, and this made up for all the above-noted losses – there are few things as exciting to my son as harvesting something from the garden and shoving a good handful of dirt, with some vegetable somewhere inside, into his mouth – which, quite honestly, looks something like when he eats Nutella mixed with Kinder Eggs and, as far as I tell can by his reaction, tastes just as good.

Which leads me to the final excerpt on The Nature of Peace, a public address some of you have been following – you’ll notice this final excerpt refers to Jon’s gardening expertise and just what makes a good seed grow, unlike a bad seed, a personality which, I’m sure, you’ve met from time to time.

For that final excerpt, you can read here.

You can also read the entire peace address in its brief entirety of 34,973,234,953,567,735 words here.

2017-07-18T02:39:18+00:00 February 18th, 2015|Categories: Daily Dad|Tags: , , , , |1 Comment

One Comment

  1. Susan Watt February 18, 2015 at 10:03 pm

    Now I know which kind of chocolate to send to Jean. although I suspect that any good version would do.

    Susan

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