Monday 24 December 2018

Snow and sand

Where can you lounge at a sun-kissed beach and then walk in a pure white snowfield?  Houston, that's where!  This classic combo was the greeting we gave Ellen and Meg, who are here for Christmas, having flown in from Heathrow, avoiding a couple of drones on the way.

The beach was our very own Galveston, where crystal blue waves lapped the shore and we enjoyed temperatures that would flatter an English summer.  There was some paddling, but no swimming, and an ice cream at Ben & Jerry's.  I did not remove my sandals and socks.

The next day it was off to find snow, which the Children's Museum had conveniently shipped in and piled up between straw bales.  The ski report would have said "slushy with ice patches" and there was an outrageous prohibition against snowball making and throwing!  Pete and Megan stood in it for thirty seconds then declared they were bored and left.

Around this has been the constant cooking, with delicacies such as Stollen with homemade candied peel, chocolate peanut butter cheesecake, and gingerbread houses appearing hourly in our kitchen.  If I felt the need to get in shape for the summer I'd be seriously worried for myself right now.

And all that before the big day even arrives!  Here's hoping Santa can find somewhere larger than the local snow patch to land his reindeer.


Texan Christmas y'all.


It was hotter than Hannah makes it look.


When I were a lad we had to make do playing with sticks and mud!


A Christmas ice cream.


There's nothing like real snow, and this is nothing like real snow.


Enough room for a snow angel?


The face of unimpressedness.


A much more interesting prospect: soldering LEDs to a rocket in the maker lab.


Merry Christmas!


Aforementioned choc and pb cheesecake.


And a very fine gingerbread house.