Sunday 10 April 2016

The art of tractors

My British parents brought decidedly British extremes of weather with them.  Last week we were sitting outside drinking a bottle of chilled charders at 8pm (ok, that's not the British bit) and then today it snowed!  In between we had quite a lot of rain too.

But - being British - the weather did not hinder us.  On one rainy day we took the train into DC and visited several art galleries.  Not because any of us is interested in art, but with many areas still on their Easter hols these were the only museums that didn't involve huge queues full of screaming school children.

Then the snow arrived.  So we decided to laugh further in the face of the climatic onslaught and go out to a tractor festival.  A tractor festival being held on top of a very windy hill.  That'll show the weather for being all cold at us!

The festival was supposed to feature several steam engines but we couldn't find any.  Perhaps they'd frozen over.  But there were lots of diesels in evidence - which made fossil fuel baroness Hannah happy - and plenty of enthusiasts to chat about them enthusiastically.  There was even a country band, although their fiddler couldn't play because her fingers were too cold.  Nor did they play any songs about combine harvesters.  The tractor wasn't invented in Somerset but I like to think it was most celebrated there...


But Grandma, what big ears you have!


Inside the National Portrait Gallery.  And oh look!  There's a puddle to jump in.


Generations.


Grandparents and grandson share a love of telly.


Naval war heroes.


After all the rain I thought about drying out, then I thought "nah".


Mum and a pork joint.  "It's not too large, is it?" she asked the waitress.  A silly question in America.


There was plenty of golf watching as well.  Did I mention that a British boy just won The Masters?


Making pancakes to order.


Oooh ar oooh ar.


Dad checks to see whether he predates this engine.


My Grandpa had one of these!  A Ferguson TO-20!  I spent a long time chatting tractors to the owner of this one (and that's not a sentence I ever imagined typing about myself).


Chickenfeed.


Patriots.


Pete was very disappointed that he had to settle for driving a tractor of this puny size.


It's not an agricultural show if there isn't funnel cake.


The hay ride!  Although the temperature was more akin to a sleigh ride.  I've had enough of tractors for a while.