As a Brit, he didn’t have the same cultural icons that I did growing up. I wasn’t convinced that he would know who Corey Haim was.

I was partially right. He had seen “Lost Boys,” and remembered him from that. But I had to explain to my husband the breadth of Corey Haim’s fame in the 1980s: his constant presence on the covers of such teen magazines as Tiger Beat (I am not ashamed to admit I used to read that tween gossip magazine somewhat regularly); his starring role in a slew of teen movies, like “License to Drive” and “Lucas”; and his perennially wholesome and youthful good looks. Even in recent years, he looked young and healthy.

It was hard to give my husband an analogy of someone who defined an entertainment era as much as Corey Haim defined the ’80s for tweens. I could only come up with the Minogue sisters (Kylie and Dannii), although that’s a bit off base: they’re Australian singers.

I hope Corey Haim is remembered for his remarkable youthful career, rather than his tragic death.

If you’re with a baby, or even if you just say you are, the barista will froth up some milk in an espresso-sized cup for you. Then, you can sit down and drink your own coffee without feeling too guilty that you have dragged your son/daughter into a coffee shop that holds no interest for them.

Minutes of fun await at the counter with the sugars and other toppings. Capping the Babyccino with alarming amounts of chocolate powder and cinnamon make the warm foamy milk even more enticing to the toddler set.

When we moved to the US, I got blank stares when I ordered Babyccinos in Starbucks. After I explained what it was, the crews were happy to make it — but less obliging when I told them that in London, it was free (frothed milk comes at a price here).

We even occasionally ordered more than one Babyccino on our London Starbucks visits, since they were, as I mentioned, free. So it’s possible, because of our abuse of the free frothed milk and powdered chocolate policies in the past, that they will start charging for the little warm milks in London Starbucks stores in the future.

It’s also possible that our London neighborhood baristas weren’t heartbroken to hear we were moving to the US.

PG tips tea was featured (even decaf!), Ribena (a syrup kids add to water to make it purple), salad cream (a mayonnaise like substance that one puts on lettuce) and McVities Digestive biscuits.

I was slightly disappointed to find that the top few digestives were crumbled. While excessive crumbs are always a hazard with those light cookies, I worried that they took a hit getting shipped over from the UK.

Unless, knowing that there is a demand for British products in the US, maybe there were produced here. And it’s possible the biscuits broke when they fell out of my canvas tote bags in the trunk of my car.

It took me about a year of living in London to find stores that sold peanut butter and low fat salad dressing. So, having been here for nearly a year and a half, I am right on schedule. I will be pleased to have the extra luggage space that is usually taken up by Branston pickle.

Now if only we can find a local liquor store that sells Pimm’s…

I was filling up at our local station from the middle pump (a nice compromise between the top of the line gas, and the cheapest) and noticed this warning sign: apparently, when pumping gas, customers are supposed to turn off their mobile phones, as well as “other electronic devices.”

Really? It had never occurred to me to do this. And if I were to hunt around for my phone in my handbag, pull it out, and turn it off, I would surely drop the pump, and cause a big spill.

That was a scary thought, as another sign informed me that I was responsible for spilled gas. (For cleaning it up? Or just paying for it? The sign was unclear, but I didn’t want to find out).

The more obvious warnings are easy to follow: customers are not supposed to light matches or cigarettes while pumping gas. Open flames certainly seemed to be bad ideas in close proximity to gas pumps – but cell phones?

I looked over at another customer, who did not appear to turn off his electronic devices before pumping. Instead, he seemed to wonder why I was looking at him.

Maybe the main reason for the signs is to give drivers something to read while they procure gas. Otherwise, standing there holding the pump can get dull.

But what surprises me most about the winter weather isn’t the timing: snow seems to fall in the Northeast, where I’m from, well into April. What is odd about today’s storm here in Atlanta is that it was almost 60 degrees and sunny yesterday.

How is it possible that today, it’s just above freezing?

Even President Obama was surprised. He opened his talk in Savannah, Georgia, this afternoon by saying that he was expecting 60 or 70 degree temperatures here in Georgia.

This isn’t DC, after all….

Of course, you get cranky crews on international flights, too. But I’ve never heard of brawling flight attendants on overseas airlines, like the fist fight between two Pinnacle Airlines employees. The Rochester bound flight was cancelled as a result.

Because passegers are on a long-haul flight for hours and hours, they make more of an effort to be friendly, I have found — at least in the early stages of the journey
A man we encountered on a Delta flight from New York to Atlanta wore a t-shirt declaring, among other things, that “homosexuality is a sin,” and “Islam is a lie.” (He turned out to be our seatmate, and was much friendlier than his hateful shirt implied).

About two hours after the flight began, people around us started to notice the shirt. You could tell that a few disapproved. But by then, it was about time to land. By the time we all trudged over to baggage claim, the message on the shirt was forgotten.

So I suppose the moral is that if you’re going to wear a t-shirt with angry slogans, save it for a short flight.

Nearly nine years ago, I lived on Abbey Road for six months, in a tiny studio with a futon. I saw a constant flow of tourists writing their names on the wall of the studio, and standing in the crosswalk, posing for photos while recreating the Beatles’ album cover pose.

And even though Abbey Road is a long and busy street, I never saw a car or a taxi honk at the people posing in the street, even though the tourists invariably delayed traffic.

So I’m not surprised that the Culture Minister made it harder for the studios to fall into the clutches of a real estate developer wanting to change them, or even Andrew Lloyd Webber, who was said to be interested in buying the complex.

The studios are more valuable to London just as they are.

Just a week before, in the same spot, we watched people ski (yes, ski!), sled, and freeze in the snow.

This sunshine, warmth, and good cheer of all the Piedmont Parkers this weekend more than made up for the relentless cold I’ve complained about this past winter. In fact, I don’t even mind that it’s bleak and rainy this morning (it is, after all, a Monday).

I haven’t lived in many places where I have gone coatless in late February.

And that was one intense mea culpa. I was impressed at the level of detail he gave about his therapy, his Buddhist background, and above all, his admission of his many affairs.

But I wonder where Elin was….

In fact, an Atlantan told me recently that during most winters, she would wear flip flops, rather than shoes and socks, because the weather was so warm.

I find that hard to believe. Since October, the weather here has varied between chilly and freezing. While there were rare exceptions, like the Sunday in November when we held our daughter’s birthday party outside (that wouldn’t have happened in London without a sturdy tent), it seems like the temperatures have been relentlessly cold.

I have learned skills that I never thought I would master, like driving on snow and ice, and defrosting car windshields.

But for the most part, I find myself in a state of mind where I never thought I would be — nostalgic for British weather.

London was predictable. You might find a gray rainy sky in August, December, or April. And temperatures would probably hover between 50 to 60 degrees Fahrenheit (that’s 10-15 degrees Celsius for my European readers).

Here, when it rains, it’s apocalyptic, with flood waters rising and big trees falling down. In London, it rains frequently, but it’s usually just a mist that you stop noticing after a while.

People here tell me this cold weather is unusual for Atlanta. But having lived here for more than a year, I fear it’s becoming the norm.