Just because you can doesn't mean you should

If, like me, you grew up as a working class lad in Somerset, the highlight of a day spent in the fields and/or down the mine was coming home to a delicious cooked dinner. And what's the best part of dinner? Pudding! And what's the best pudding? Bread and butter pudding, obviously, but a close second is Angel Delight.

Angel Delight is a fascinating thing: a packet of powder that you whisk with milk and then leave to set. What manner of sorcery is this?! It is light and fluffy, unlike most British puddings that take 3-5 business days to digest because they're made from stale leftovers (see: bread and butter pudding, above). It is especially interesting in the USA as it conforms to the specific American definition of "pudding" - as opposed to the generic "dessert" - and is also unavailable, possibly because it's considered dangerous, like Kinder Surprise eggs, not safe, like guns.

So how does one acquire pudding contraband this side of the Atlantic? Well, you need an international supplier, which I have. In a stroke of genius, it's my mum! No one expects 70-yr-olds to be mixed up in this stuff. So when a box of Christmas goodies arrived last week, I opened it to find not one but all four currently available flavours! Which meant there was only one thing to do. Yes, create the fabled, perhaps even mythical, four-layer Angel Delight.

But what order to place them in? Banana is the strongest flavour and can tend to bleed into the others, especially chocolate. Butterscotch - the best flavour, don't argue - is strong enough to withstand banana's assault, but its beige colour next to the yellow does not make for the best aesthetic composition. Strawberry's pink layer is certainly the most striking, but sadly is the least sophisticated on the palate. Also we were only sent the sugar-free version! I'll have words with my dealer.

In the end, from bottom-to-top we went for banana-butterscotch-strawberry-chocolate. Much milk was sacrificed in this culinary feat, and Pete was allowed to lick the mixing bowl on three occasions; he's too young to appreciate butterscotch.

The result? With the addition of some squirty cream I'll let the pictures speak for the themselves, as I sit back to consume whipped nirvana and await the Michelin inspector with my first star...or the culinary police...or US Customs and Border Protection.

You should use only the freshest ingredients.

In-process.

The final creation! Can you hear the eponymous angels weeping at the beauty? I can.

Surprisingly, four packets of Angel Delight makes quite a bit of Angel Delight.

And the food critics? Happy.

Brined turkey

We British are the masters of social distancing. When Hannah was pregnant, her American boss commented "You're a very private person" because she didn't let visitors to the office rub her bump (ugh!) In keeping with this, Pete was born eight weeks early because he was uncomfortable spending more time in such close proximity to his mother.

So at Thanksgiving, that late-November holiday when Americans gather with their nearest and dearest, we naturally decided to go somewhere no one would be: the seaside.

Now, the Texas seaside in winter isn't exactly like its British counterpart. Here you can still get sunburned in moments, but when temperatures dip below three figures (Fahrenheit) the locals deem it hypothermic and stay away.

But leaving Houston behind did not mean leaving behind Thanksgiving! Hannah made sure we came loaded with all the turkey and trimmings needed for the full experience. Added to the requisite buckets and spades, picnic chairs, sun shades, etc. our overpacked car looked like...well, a typical family beach holiday. I finally have the excuse to shop for a truck in this year's Black Friday sales.

We had a wonderful week away, which consisted mostly of Hannah and Pete swimming in the sea while I sat grumbling with a tweed blanket over my knees. I hope after Covid we can keep wearing the physical masks, so I don't have to switch back to my metaphorical one.

There I was, digging this hole...

It was unsurprisingly quiet in the sea as well.

And not too cold so I was told. Treasuring my dignity, I did not remove my shoes or socks.

Hannah checks on her oil rigs out in the gulf.

Don't get used to it kiddo.

There was also a swimming pool...which no one else was using either.

I was starting to get post-apocalyptic vibes, which is a little early given there's still one month of 2020 to go.

Lots of space = lots of room for sandcastles!

Relaxing.

We took the stairs.

Turkey day finally arrived! Cheers!

Hannah wisely jointed the bird, and only brought what would last us for several days. The rest is in the freezer at home.

But our young American did his best to finish everything quickly.

Sunrise over the Gulf of Mexico.

And one final dip before home.

Term limits

Finally, a day long anticipated in America arrived. Yes, it was Hannah's birthday! She demurred on the offer of breakfast in bed from Pete, but was treated to many coffees and a full day of work in her home office for her beloved Chevron. So...pretty much the same as normal.

And that, dear reader, is why updates have been a little sparse lately. After the flurry of our New Mexico summer, things have settled into a well-worn routine. School remains video-based for Pete, and my chance of publishing the great American novel remains even more remote than Hannah's work.

Of course, this means the bright spots are even brighter! We've managed a socially-distanced bike ride with our neighbours, and the Cubs helped out with moving pumpkins around a church. We saw one of Pete's pre-school friends at a Halloween party at a local park! It was a bring-your-own-candy affair to prevent contamination, which did not impress the children present. We've even indulged in the British trend of cat-stealing!

In the midst of all this, the USA is trying to decide whether it wants an old white man or an old white man to lead it. The latest I've heard is that you can stop the process whenever you want and declare victory! I think this should be adopted by all American sports, it may actually make baseball watchable. At least the question of who's in charge around here isn't up for debate (hint: not the person typing).

Happy birthday Hannah! Yes, I made those cupcakes.

Galveston: always empty. The perfect Covid destination!

Pete doing his best.

Are we in the right place for the Halloween party?

Davies in the lead, the peloton trailing badly.

When I serve coffee, this is what I mean. I haven't been wasting my lockdown time!

A boy and his pumpkin.

Spooky!

Thanks to Aunty Katharine for the charming door hanging.

The highlight of every afternoon.

Why own a cat when you can "borrow"?

Did I hear there was an election?

The long road home

Now time really was up, mainly because Houston school district failed to push back their starting date any further. Shocking! Not that anything is going to happen in-person, but we did need better Internet than the wilds of New Mexico offered.

We spent our final days fitting in a few more hikes, dreading getting stuck inside again by the soupy weather of coastal Texas. Pete and I had a nice wander around some abandoned gold mines that - as in most gold rushes - only made money for the people who subdivided and sold them rather than dug there.

Getting home was the small matter of a 13-hour drive, a distance unimaginable to our British sensibilities but piffle in our American context. In the end it was fine given the long, straight, empty roads (until drawing close to the highway nightmare of Houston, at least) and did allow us a sneaky In-N-Out drive-thru on the outskirts of Waco.

It turns out that you can leave your house for six weeks with little problem, especially with wonderful neighbours like Kindra and David to keep an eye on it, and apart from a dead fly here and there and a lime tree full of fruit (yay!) nothing had changed, not even the humidity. Bring on winter!

New Mexico has been very good to us these last few weeks, so much so that Hannah's eyeing mountain-based jobs. Ski instructor? Chalet girl? Maybe if they actually find gold it'll be worthwhile, but until then black gold remains the best bet.

Surveying.

Yep, still no gold.

But we did find some archaeology! This is a rather fine Native American arrowhead (which, being proper archaeologists, we left in-situ).

Ha!

An old goldmine.

A little more extreme sport.

Falling far below my wife and son, in every respect.

I sort of managed to almost take a photo of the Milky Way!

A final, wistful look at the cool peaks and pines.

Worth driving 13 hours for.

A change of pace

Despite waiting patiently for it to change, the desert remained hot and dry. But thankfully there are some hills nearby, on the other side of Santa Fe, and an interesting National Park in-between.

Pecos National Historical Park is a very ancient and very important Native American site, with a great location on a river between plains and mountains. It was a cultural and economic hub but (surprise) was quickly seized by colonials after they discovered it. Amazingly it wasn't the British to blame this time but the Spanish! After revolts, reclamations, the Santa Fe Trail, and the Mexican-American War, all that's now left is archaeological digs and the remnants of an old church. Visiting medieval churches was a staple of Hannah's European family holidays, so we continued the tradition.

The next day we ran for the hills and found a fantastic walk in Santa Fe National Forest, a beautiful mix of pines and aspen. Like a lot of places around here, this is a ski resort in the winter but right now is the perfect location and temperature to hike. Even Pete didn't complain. Much.

Then the highlight: Hannah had discovered that nearby, still high in the hills, was a Japanese spa. Pete has been going on about "onsen" ever since our holiday to Japan last year, and due to Covid the Ten Thousand Waves spa is only allowing a few bookings in private outdoor tubs. So in we went, stripped off, and soaked away the hours on the trail. Or me and Hannah did - Pete was more excited about the loo with all the buttons.

Looking out across the Pecos River Valley.

Archaeology.

 Measuring the arch.

 Walking down the aisle.

Another National Park, another Junior Ranger badge!

Sunset over the sandstone.

Off on the trail again. "Yay!" say some of us.

Add another to the "following Hannah and Pete" photo collection.

Boys outdoors.

Santa Fe is very arty - a fact they trace back to the crafts of Native American dwellers in places like Pecos! So here's some art someone hung on the trail (several miles from anywhere, I should add).

What's this?

Who needs Japan when you have New Mexico?!

Totally authentic. Maybe.

They do have koi.

Safety first!

Private paradise.

Pete in the cooling room.

"Let me try a cute self-timer of us all in the tub together!" Attempt #1

Attempt #2

Discussing whether we should come here tomorrow as well. And then the next day too.



But, for Pete, the main attraction.