Louisianan Spring Break

School's out forever, crooned Alice Cooper as he memorably predicted the Covid-19 pandemic. After several weeks of freezes, IT problems, and goodness knows other catastrophes, this week was actually an official break for Pete's 2nd Grade class. And while we thought about heading to Miami, we concluded it was more sensible to stick closer to home.

So we skipped the state border and found ourselves in Louisiana, somewhere we went at New Year. These days I pick holiday destinations by mentioning places to American friends and if they say "who would vacation there?" I immediately book. This trick worked again as we found ourselves virtually the only people in the beautiful state park of Lake Claiborne.

As I've mentioned previously, I'm of an age where I believe I've camped enough. Or maybe I've just moved the goalposts of "camping" to include cabins with their own toilets, kitchens, telly and wi-fi. Either way, roughing it isn't half as rough as it once was, and I'm thankful for that. We spent a lovely week hiking, kayaking, building fires...and being able to shower privately afterwards. It's the little things.

Of course it was all over too quickly, and we were soon heading back from the empty wilds to our city of 5.5 million. It's so much easier to socially distance when you're sharing a square mile with only a couple of armadillos and a possum.

Why is he so happy? Oh yes, no school for a week.

Landing a big one.

Woman wistful with white wine.

Kids, eh?

Off in a kayak!

The "swimming beach". We didn't.

More attempted fishing.

Like a good Cub Scout, Pete got down to some firestarting.

To cook Spam!

Yeah...no thanks.

Another foray onto the lake...which I skipped.

More fire.

One of the armadillos!

And an opossum! Not as cuddly as the Aussie namesake, but very useful.

Striding out.

The park boasted "The #1 and #2 best frisbee golf courses in Louisiana". How many does the state have?!

Better than Spam: a s'more.

No kayaking today. 

Taking a short rest.

Final Louisianan sunset.

The big chill

It's a deeply unfair stereotype that the British are obsessed with complaining about the weather. Which is why it's so great when EVERYONE complains about the weather!

Yes, here in Texas most conversations of the last week have been about the "cold front" that was expected, and then how big/long that cold front would be, and then how cold that cold front would be. Today we got our answer: ridiculously cold.

So cold, in fact, that they decided to cancel virtual school. This was another topic of conversation that got me extremely animated, although in the end turned out to be exactly the right decision as over a million Houstonians lost their power, including Pete's teacher. We found out that the state's main electricity generators (wind and gas) stop working when it gets cold, and also that none of the Texas electricity supply managers - Texas has a separate grid from the rest of the US, because of course we do - could foresee that people would want to heat their homes in low temperatures.

And not just low, but really low! Our record low is 5F (-15C) and although we shouldn't break that tonight it's going to be the coldest for at least 30 years. And then I realise "30 years" means 1991, and I feel old.

Not that any of this affected Pete, who had a wonderful day of wish fulfilment as he's been going on about snow for months. We were outside in the Arctic conditions straight after breakfast, sledding around deserted streets. The snow was powdery and white, the kind you'd love to slalom down if there was a hill within 500 miles of here, but Hannah did a good job of compacting it into a snowman in difficult circumstances.

The deep and crisp and even blanket began melting in the weak afternoon sun, but tonight is when the real drop happens, with even the BBC asking "Why is it so cold in Texas?" I'm not sure, but I find comfort in knowing we're going to be complaining about it for a long time to come.

I prefer the humidity when it doesn't drop from the sky as white flakes.

Pete, extremely sad that school was cancelled.

Winter wonderland.

The weather has cooled, but tempers haven't.

Making good use of a sled.

Then a better use of a sled.

We wrapped our lime tree because...that's what other people were doing. Extra-cold G&T's anyone?

A palm in our local park has to tough it out by itself.

The main road by our house was not so main today.

Heat was in the very sod.

More a snow cone than a snow man, but good work Hannah!

My turn to drag.

Then someone else's.

And finally Mum brings it home, in time for well-earned cappuccinos and a hot chocolate. We received more than a few queries about where we got our snow shovels and sledge. Washington, DC, we told them smugly.

Surviving 2020

So apparently there are some vaccines now and everything's going to go back to normal, which means all my stockpiling, zombie survival training, and casual prep for the Biblical end times might come to nothing! In order to salvage some dignity we decided to head out into the woods for New Year.

We found a state park just over the Louisiana border, so after a few hours' drive were ready to rough it for three nights in a nice cabin with central heating, a kitchen, and a TV. Shockingly, the wi-fi in the park was down! Yes, we had ventured to the edge of civilisation and beyond.

After the initial shock, we spent a few lovely days catching minnows in the nearby lake, hiking, and honing our survival skills by watching TV shows like "River Monsters" and "Mysteries Of The Abandoned". The weather was terrible which is probably why we were the only people there, but it did add nicely to the apocalyptic tableau.

Then, sadly, it was back to real life, with the imminent restart of school, work, and whatever stuff I do all day. Here's to a year that can't possibly be as challenging as the last one. Can it? Either way, I'll be more than ready...as long as there's wi-fi and a TV.

What? I'm too old for a tent.

Sending Pete to catch dinner.

Hannah is roughing it in a Title 9 top with Hunter boots, while Pete barely survives in a customised Ralph Lauren T-shirt and khaki slacks.

Louisiana sunset.

We were treated to a spectacular final full moon of 2020.

S'mores: important for nutrition.

Fishing resumed the next morning. Failure is not an option!

Success! But you should have seen the one that got away.

Ah, water-filled wellies. The childhood memories!

Pete decided to take things to the next level.

So did Hannah, but in the opposite direction.

Passing on knowledge from father to son.

Catch and release.

We had to make our own entertainment (during the commercial breaks).

Alright, time to go home.

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.