The enemy.

Today is Remembrance Sunday.  This year is a particularly special year as it is the 100th anniversary of the start of World War I.  Since I arrived home on the 29th of October I have been wearing my poppy, (the emblem of the poppies that bloomed across the battlefields of Flanders), with pride. 
I used to love Poppy Day when I was a kid and I couldn't wait to place a small, kid-sized remittance in the familiar red collection box, a donation to benefit ex-servicemen and women.  In return I'd receive my red paper poppy with it's black plastic centre that I wore with enthusiasm.  The Royal British Legion raises a lot of money in their annual poppy appeal which funds their work with the Armed Forces community.  The ladybird in the photograph looks like it is sporting a brilliant red poppy on it's elytra in honour of the war dead.  It looks cute.  But looks can be deceiving.
The harlequin ladybird (Harmonia axyridis), a non-native species, is invading the British Isles.  The harlequin was first spotted here in 2004 and has quickly become one of the most common ladybirds in the country. The invasive harlequin is a rather large species of ladybird and it is a voracious predator, it is able to out-compete the native species for aphids and will also eat other ladybirds' eggs and larvae.  Not good.  The harlequins are clustered in large numbers around window and door frames and in any available nooks and crannies where they hope to overwinter.  Their numbers are quite impressive outdoors and inside: my bedroom and bathroom (at Thud's house) have been invaded also.  They're cute, but like The hun they are persona non grata here.  The world is an increasingly smaller place and invasive species hitchhiking around the globe is increasingly problematic.  I will definitely check my bags when I leave here later this week.
Lest we forget.

True Wine Lover 9.

More often than not when meeting people for the first time, in a wine context, folks act a little surprised when I open my mouth and a still rather strong Liverpool accent spews forth (although most Americans wouldn't recognise it as such.) Their doubting looks often betray the fact that they are somewhat sceptical as to how on earth an Englishwoman could possibly know anything about wine. Why not, when everyone else you meet in the course of an average Napa Valley day is a self-proclaimed wine expert? I sometimes wonder, would my viticulture/oenology knowledge carry more weight if I delivered it with a French, Italian or, God forbid, German accent?

Considered by many (but not by me) to be the father of Napa Valley wine, Charles Krug is oftentimes credited with the notable distinction, in Napa wine-lore, of making the first commercial wine (and building the first commercial winery.) This is simply not true: the real star of the birth of the Napa Valley wine industry was, fee-fi-fo-fum...an Englishman!

Born in Lincolnshire in 1797, after much traveling around the United States John M. Patchett was 53 years old when he arrived in Napa in 1850. He proceeded to purchase a 100 acre parcel that became known as 'Patchett's Addition' and planted a vineyard of Mission grapes - the grape variety first brought to California by Franciscan monks. In 1857, Patchett harvested and crushed enough grapes to produce 6 barrels of wine which he then sold for $2 per gallon, thus becoming the first commercial winemaker ever in the Napa Valley. Then in 1859, he solidified his position into Napa wine-history by building the first commercial winery in the Valley, a 33' x 50' stone structure located in what is now downtown Napa. German immigrant Krug began his oenological journey in Napa by making wine at Patchett's winery, eventually founding his own in 1861.

Patchett, a brewer by trade, was by the mid 1860s considered to be the preeminent vintner in the entire Napa Valley. He continued to make wine until 1870, when at age 73 he sold his business and retired. John M. Patchett passed away in 1876 and is buried in Tulocay Cemetery. This is not just some fairytale, it is historical fact. It could only possibly have been made better if Mr. Patchett had hailed from Liverpool....all the best wine experts do, don't they?

Go England!