Because so many of you have asked, below are pictures of the infamous bucks' heads... and of the boy in his sister's sweats until his pants show up!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
It's a Quiet Buzz...
This is a picture of The Mall, facing the Washington Monument. There were just a few people out and about this afternoon, checking out the preparations for tomorrow's kick-off events. In asking locals, the consensus is that crowds are light today because of the near-record cold. Even the Smithsonians and other museums weren't carrying the usual traffic today. Tomorrow, and even more on Tuesday, the empty spaces below are expected to be filled with as many at 2 million people.
The picture below shows the US Capitol, where Obama's swearing in will occur. I heard today on the local news that those with tickets will be required to remain sitting in their seats. Those of us without tickets will be allowed to roam-- as much as a crowd of 2 million or more will allow-- and keep warm. Makes me glad that we didn't fully succeed in getting tickets!
The picture below shows the US Capitol, where Obama's swearing in will occur. I heard today on the local news that those with tickets will be required to remain sitting in their seats. Those of us without tickets will be allowed to roam-- as much as a crowd of 2 million or more will allow-- and keep warm. Makes me glad that we didn't fully succeed in getting tickets!
I met a man from DC who is originally from Ethiopia. He cried as he told me how excited that Obama will be president next week. He explained how, even though he is not a US citizen, he knows that the US will be a place "that works for everyone who wants to work for it."
It's amazing, and humbling, to meet people who so revere the freedom most of us take for granted.
I am off for now to go eat the best seafood on the Altantic coast, maybe even the world.
More later!
Friday, January 16, 2009
The Grateful Pilgrimage
So, it's 7:30 p.m. Pacific time... the time to which my body is still pretty much ticking. It's 10:30 in Washington, DC, where Jon, Jesse, Katie and I have arrived today.
It's been an interesting, breathtaking, hilarious, day. It started at 1:30 a.m. this morning when I awoke to start all the morning rituals so that we could make our 3:00 shuttle to the airport in Sacramento. All was going perfectly well, until 2:12 a.m., when my son, uttering an expletive, informed me that he didn't have any pants.
No pants?
He insisted on wearing his pajamas to Sacramento, and apparently, despite the 'dry run' packing that we did on Saturday, and the much advertised and celebrated 'family laundry night' we had last Tuesday, somehow-- somehow-- the pants did not make it into his suitcase.
So, tomorrow, I will post pictures of him, on the plane, in his pajamas. Headed for 18-degree temperatures in our nation's capital.
Sarah, Jesse's beloved girlfriend, may have fully demonstrated her devotion to my son today when she texted Jesse to let him know that she was Fed Exing his pants to him here in Washington, DC. Arranging overnight delivery of one's britches is one of the highest forms of affection in my book!
While flying today, my excitement for our adventure grew. And so did my gratitude.
I realized, that we would not be on this amazing journey, and we would not be witnessing next week's history in the making as Barack Obama is sworn in as our president, were it not for YOU. All of you. Had we not collectively turned out in record numbers to have our voices heard in the November election; and had we all not pulled together, united in our hope for a better nation, my family and I would not be here this week sharing in this historic moment.
The air in Washington is buzzing. The taste of hope is tangible. It can be seen in taller countenances, warmer smiles, eyes twinking with hope. We are on the verge of a new tomorrow. We are on the verge of greater success in meeting those challenges that face our nation. We are united, stitched together in our hope that the coming year will bring with it the tools we need to positively alter the course of our future.
Almost as if Mother Nature wanted to gift us with a physical manifestation, the temperatures here are so frigid, it almost hurts to breathe. It made me realize that I have collectively been holding my breath for most of 2008-- hoping for a better economy, with more job security; hoping for an end to two mismanaged wars; hoping for the election to result in the emergence of a leader who will encourage and inspire us all to rise to our collective best as a nation.
Today, it was as if for the first time in a long, long time I've breathed that hope, even tasting its goodness.
Tomorrow, we will be taking in the sights-- visiting some of the Smithsonian exhibits, mapping our our spectator strategies for the coming week's events, and just enjoying one another's company, and the company of thousands of new friends who are here sharing in the celebrations at hand.
It's been an interesting, breathtaking, hilarious, day. It started at 1:30 a.m. this morning when I awoke to start all the morning rituals so that we could make our 3:00 shuttle to the airport in Sacramento. All was going perfectly well, until 2:12 a.m., when my son, uttering an expletive, informed me that he didn't have any pants.
No pants?
He insisted on wearing his pajamas to Sacramento, and apparently, despite the 'dry run' packing that we did on Saturday, and the much advertised and celebrated 'family laundry night' we had last Tuesday, somehow-- somehow-- the pants did not make it into his suitcase.
So, tomorrow, I will post pictures of him, on the plane, in his pajamas. Headed for 18-degree temperatures in our nation's capital.
Sarah, Jesse's beloved girlfriend, may have fully demonstrated her devotion to my son today when she texted Jesse to let him know that she was Fed Exing his pants to him here in Washington, DC. Arranging overnight delivery of one's britches is one of the highest forms of affection in my book!
While flying today, my excitement for our adventure grew. And so did my gratitude.
I realized, that we would not be on this amazing journey, and we would not be witnessing next week's history in the making as Barack Obama is sworn in as our president, were it not for YOU. All of you. Had we not collectively turned out in record numbers to have our voices heard in the November election; and had we all not pulled together, united in our hope for a better nation, my family and I would not be here this week sharing in this historic moment.
The air in Washington is buzzing. The taste of hope is tangible. It can be seen in taller countenances, warmer smiles, eyes twinking with hope. We are on the verge of a new tomorrow. We are on the verge of greater success in meeting those challenges that face our nation. We are united, stitched together in our hope that the coming year will bring with it the tools we need to positively alter the course of our future.
Almost as if Mother Nature wanted to gift us with a physical manifestation, the temperatures here are so frigid, it almost hurts to breathe. It made me realize that I have collectively been holding my breath for most of 2008-- hoping for a better economy, with more job security; hoping for an end to two mismanaged wars; hoping for the election to result in the emergence of a leader who will encourage and inspire us all to rise to our collective best as a nation.
Today, it was as if for the first time in a long, long time I've breathed that hope, even tasting its goodness.
Tomorrow, we will be taking in the sights-- visiting some of the Smithsonian exhibits, mapping our our spectator strategies for the coming week's events, and just enjoying one another's company, and the company of thousands of new friends who are here sharing in the celebrations at hand.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Mounting Obama Madness
So... in eleven days, we will have a new president. In six days, the Lewis/Baremore clan will begin its pilgrimage to the nation's capitol to witness the event. I am REALLY getting excited. In addition to the historic moment at hand, our niece, Jessica Lewis, will also be back there, as will some of Katie and Jesse's U-Prep classmates. And 2-5 MILLION potential new friends. Can't wait for the good times to start!
AND... we now have tickets to an Eddie from Ohio show out in Virginia somewhere on the 18th.
Sometimes, I am just overwhelmed at how great this life is.
AND... we now have tickets to an Eddie from Ohio show out in Virginia somewhere on the 18th.
Sometimes, I am just overwhelmed at how great this life is.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
What's in a Serving Size?
Normally, I would just post this on my other blog site, but I have a few wisecracking things to say about this here, as well.
Yesterday, having achieved the feat of losing 25 pounds since the beginning of Thanksgiving, I was tempted by my son's package of Double Stuff Oreos sitting on the kitchen counter. While chatting with my son, I slid one out of the package, twisted it in half and ate the creamy middle, which is my favorite-- and even preferred-- part of the cookie. I handed Jesse the two chocolate ends, and reached for a second cookie. After eating the center, I decided a little chocolate couldn't hurt, so I stuffed one of the chocolate cookie ends into my mouth and began to chew.
While chewing down on the chocolatey crumbles in my mouth, I turned over the Oreo package to check out the nutritional information. My eyes went straight to the calories information, where I learned that a serving size of Oreos contains 160 calories. I was right in the middle of telling myself that I was surprised that Oreos were such a low-calorie snack when I noticed that a serving size of Oreos is TWO. Yep. TWO cookies. Who eats just TWO Oreos???
Well, for starters, that would now be ME. Yikes!
Yesterday, having achieved the feat of losing 25 pounds since the beginning of Thanksgiving, I was tempted by my son's package of Double Stuff Oreos sitting on the kitchen counter. While chatting with my son, I slid one out of the package, twisted it in half and ate the creamy middle, which is my favorite-- and even preferred-- part of the cookie. I handed Jesse the two chocolate ends, and reached for a second cookie. After eating the center, I decided a little chocolate couldn't hurt, so I stuffed one of the chocolate cookie ends into my mouth and began to chew.
While chewing down on the chocolatey crumbles in my mouth, I turned over the Oreo package to check out the nutritional information. My eyes went straight to the calories information, where I learned that a serving size of Oreos contains 160 calories. I was right in the middle of telling myself that I was surprised that Oreos were such a low-calorie snack when I noticed that a serving size of Oreos is TWO. Yep. TWO cookies. Who eats just TWO Oreos???
Well, for starters, that would now be ME. Yikes!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
A Little Networking...
... some folks I know are looking for work.
If you know any positions that might be available for individuals with the following types of skill sets, drop me an email at susanne.lewis@yahoo.com.
Thanks!
An individual with field project management experience in logging, road building, water truck driving, heavy equipment operations, welding, mechanics, etc. Has experience with the propane business. Sales experience and moderate computer skills. A conscientious and hard worker.
An individual with office management, accounting technician, or other office-type skills. Bachelors degree. Organized and detail-oriented, moderate to high computer skills. Bilingual-- fluent in Spanish.
If you know any positions that might be available for individuals with the following types of skill sets, drop me an email at susanne.lewis@yahoo.com.
Thanks!
An individual with field project management experience in logging, road building, water truck driving, heavy equipment operations, welding, mechanics, etc. Has experience with the propane business. Sales experience and moderate computer skills. A conscientious and hard worker.
An individual with office management, accounting technician, or other office-type skills. Bachelors degree. Organized and detail-oriented, moderate to high computer skills. Bilingual-- fluent in Spanish.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Body... Will... How 'Bout We Find Some Middle Ground Here??
I can remember the first time I fully realized that my body was not going to do what I wanted it to. It was February 1994. I was in Washington, DC, working for the week. The first two days were unremarkable. The usual 12-hour days were crammed with as many meetings as could be scheduled, the customary two-hour evening debriefing, and another two hours of laying out the following day's game plan.
The next morning, at 4:00 a.m., as I stumbled into the bathroom, hacking, wheezing, and completely winded from the two-dozen steps from the other room, I realized that I may not make my appointed rounds the next day. I scrambled to put together the day's itinerary in something other than my own personal shorthand, and called my back-up to explain that I wasn't going to be leaving the hotel. When she came to my room after breakfast, her face was masked with a distinct cross between pity and horror, as if she had seen a dead person.
Every two hours or so that day, I attempted to crawl out of bed and meet up with my colleagues, thinking I could make at least some of the meetings and the press conference I had arranged for the late afternoon. Each time, I was met with the realization that the bathroom and the phone for room service was really the outer reaches of my kingdom for the time being.
Upon traveling home to northeastern California the next day, I stopped at a walk-in clinic in Reno, Nevada, to find out what the heck was wrong with me. Turns out I had bronchitis.
It's much the way I feel today. I have so much stuff to do-- stories to write, a trip to prepare for (12 days!!!!), and yet, all I can do is cough, choke, and blow my nose. I keep trying to bargain with my aching body, "I don't want to run a marathon here, but can't we at least be clear headed for a couple hours today??"
Apparently, the answer is a resounding NO.
At the end of the second night, I was really feeling awful. I had a fever. My chest hurt. My throat was sore, and my voice was gone. I muddled through two more days of such delirium. It wasn't until the end of the fourth day, when I passed up a trip to The Fish Market in Old Alexandria, that my colleagues began to realize that I really and truly wasn't feeling well. That was the only time I have ever passed up a chance to see that piano player and drink Fish Market Brew.
The next morning, at 4:00 a.m., as I stumbled into the bathroom, hacking, wheezing, and completely winded from the two-dozen steps from the other room, I realized that I may not make my appointed rounds the next day. I scrambled to put together the day's itinerary in something other than my own personal shorthand, and called my back-up to explain that I wasn't going to be leaving the hotel. When she came to my room after breakfast, her face was masked with a distinct cross between pity and horror, as if she had seen a dead person.
Every two hours or so that day, I attempted to crawl out of bed and meet up with my colleagues, thinking I could make at least some of the meetings and the press conference I had arranged for the late afternoon. Each time, I was met with the realization that the bathroom and the phone for room service was really the outer reaches of my kingdom for the time being.
Upon traveling home to northeastern California the next day, I stopped at a walk-in clinic in Reno, Nevada, to find out what the heck was wrong with me. Turns out I had bronchitis.
It's much the way I feel today. I have so much stuff to do-- stories to write, a trip to prepare for (12 days!!!!), and yet, all I can do is cough, choke, and blow my nose. I keep trying to bargain with my aching body, "I don't want to run a marathon here, but can't we at least be clear headed for a couple hours today??"
Apparently, the answer is a resounding NO.
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