Are friends electric?

It was that sad moment again when we had to say goodbye to Grandma and Grandpa...and then realise that it's only a few weeks until we fly to the UK and see them again.  But to keep our minds off their short absence I found a new museum to go to, which was very near Baltimore airport (good) but was not free (bad).  The National Electronics Museum!

Like a lot of museums around here it purports to be generally about something - in this case electricity - but is in fact about the military.  I suppose when you spend as much on defense as the USA you're going to have a lot of obsolete kit around, and it's probably cheaper to put it in a museum than attempt to recycle it.  So there were code machines, arrays from the nose-cones of jets, jammers of every description, radar dishes, mobile military radio stations...all with pressable buttons, so all wonderful to a 3-yr-old.

After that we still had some time to waste so found the Thomas A. Dixon Jr. Aircraft Observation Area!  It's a area at the end of one of the runways where you can sit and...well, observe aircraft.  That's about it, but Pete and Grandpa needed nothing more to keep them occupied.  I was personally a little disappointed that almost every plane was a Southwest 737-700, with only one American Airlines Airbus A319-100 to break the monotony.

After that excitement we went to The Cheesecake Factory to calm down and send Mum and Dad home with a final large and calorie-filled slice of America, then drop them at the airport.  It's been wonderful to see them, as ever, and if I hadn't already tried it I might eat Baileys and Angel Delight mixed together to cheer myself up.  Still, I do have one pack of chocolate Hob Nobs left.



Danger, danger!

This is what Skype looked like before you were born.

Mind you, I'm still upset that my mobile phone looks nothing like this.  New technology is so boring.

No idea what's going on here, but look!  I'm on TV!

Pete plays with a simulation of anti-submarine warfare, something Grandpa does not like.

When in doubt, press the large red button.

A cheeky player of the Theremin.

At the aircraft observation area.  Look out for hedgehogs!

Last dessert.

Goodbye from the Davieses of Maryland.

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.

Full house

Grandpa has arrived!  Excitement levels - already extremely elevated due to Grandma's presence - have gone through the roof, as Pete is able to command yet another adult to reach up to the sweetie shelf and pass him Easter goodies.

My Dad's arrival was delayed due to the World Figure Skating Championships in Boston, where he spent around 10 hours a day watching toe loops, wally jumps and half axels and cheering on the handful of British competitors.  He was the only one of the 17,000 spectators waving a Union Jack, he tells me.  And he was shocked to find the now-standard practice that you can't take in any food or drink of your own to sports venues.  Trapped in the arena, his lunch one day was two Dunkin' Donuts and a hot chocolate, followed by Chicken McNuggets and fries for dinner.  Ironically, exactly what his Grandson would choose if given the chance.

With everybody now here in DC the days are somewhat packed.  And everyone enjoys an afternoon nap, except yours truly who needs to spend the time cleaning, tidying, and getting dinner ready (I'm not sure about Hannah, but with the oil price so low I imagine she gets to enjoy a bit of shut-eye in the office most afternoons).

Today I've sent my parents off into DC today armed with travel cards, two maps, and a mobile phone.  They're going to the National Geographic Museum and we will (hopefully) rendezvous later.  Pete's at school, so I suppose I should spend the time cleaning, tidying, and getting dinner ready.  Maybe I'll treat myself to a little glass of duty-free Baileys, just to take the edge off...

In Wheaton Park.

The carousel has opened for the summer!  Unfortunately you have to pay for 3-yr-olds, so this year looks like a 100% increase in the fun budget from 2015.

Another day, another park.

Cultural appropriation by the Americans, again.



A face only a Grandma could love.

This is why everyone naps.

Elevated threat level?

Working out how to send encrypted communications to his Grandparents.



Something a bit more arty.

Grandpa's here!

Dad has a degree in engineering and a lifetime's experience.  I studied theology.  Who managed to put the scooter together correctly?

Away we go!

Bailangel Delighteys

It's not often that I'm the beneficiary of divine inspiration, but this morning as I was looking at the bottle of Baileys Irish Cream and the packet of butterscotch Angel Delight that my wonderful mother brought me from England it was as though the clouds parted and heavenly voices began singing.  Of course!  Why had this not occurred to me before?

I had to ingeniously play around with the recipe (substituting 1/2 pint of milk with 1/2 pint of Baileys), and the resulting concoction failed to set into the requisite pudding consistency so I had to whip in a second packet of butterscotch powder.  But the result?

Well, it still didn't set, but it did taste delicious - all the advantages of Angel Delight and Baileys but with none of the downsides.  Not that I can think of any downsides right now, but anyway.  It'll probably be best poured over ice cream, maybe with a Malteser bunny crumbled on the top, and then eaten with a chocolate Hob Nob instead of a spoon.  Now where's that Masterchef application form...?



Step 1: Check the Baileys is good enough.

Step 2: Arrange everything you need.

Step 3: Make sure the Baileys is still good.



Step 4: Pour some of the Baileys (making sure you leave enough to have a tipple later) into a bowl.

Step 5: Confirm the quality of Baileys remains undiminished.

Step 6: Add the Angel Delight.

Step 7: Baileys.

Step ??: Ask a responsible helper to assist with the mixing.



Step D: Lick the Baileys off the whisks.

Step Up: Inspect the mixture.  Resist the temptation to drink it there and then and put it in the fridge to (vaguely) set.

Stepping stone: Clean any kitchen equipment you used, especially if it contained any Baileys.

Stepmother: A few hours later get someone to test it for you, because you're asleep.  Mum's verdict?  It tastes of Baileys.