Category: Events

The crowd shuffled back down the hall when the party was over. The conversations were so much fun. I heard people going on about the bathrooms (“Fine facilities!” in a very Southern accent), talking about how many paper napkins with the White House emblem that they stuffed in their purses, and the cameras never stopped snapping. (This was in the olden days before phones became cameras.)

We were very reluctant to leave, as were most of the guests. It was all such a beautiful fantasy, and  it was hard to believe it was over so quickly.  While I changed from my vindictive and useless high heels to a pair of walking shoes, Michael made friends with Jeff, a Secret Service guy.

He showed him the photos of meeting the President in Sequoia in 2001 and referred to him as “Dubya”. I said, horrified,  “Michael! They probably don’t call him that here!!” Jeff said, “Actually, we call him Forty-three”.

There are many layers of security around the White House, several different fences and gates to pass through before emerging onto Pennsylvania Avenue.

I may have stood on a bench for this one. (It was safe – my high heels were in my oh-so-dorky-with-dress-up-clothes-backpack). There was a fence separating us from the White House and another one separating us from outside the White House.  Our next mission was to locate a Metro Station and figure out how to get back to Alexandria, where we had a 19 block walk back to Janey’s (the reason I brought normal shoes).

Here is the magical little item that gave me this unforgettable adventure.

It is interesting to note that no where are the artists mentioned when the ornaments are shown, only the National Parks that we represented. (That website is gone now.) We were instructed to not use our designs commercially – no reproductions, no advertising saying “as designed for the White House”. I have been asked many times why I haven’t made more ornaments, and that is the main reason. If that agreement wasn’t part of the deal, perhaps I might have done so, but to paint the same little fussy object over and over probably would have lost its appeal.

However, last year someone asked for one, so I painted 3 more, sold 2 and have one small one remaining. I took a chance that the statute of limitations would have expired after 10 years. So far no one has come to get me in the middle of the night, but this is the first time I’ve put this on the World Wide Web. (If my blog goes silent, will someone please contact the Secret Service?)

About getting “gussied up”. . . I faxed the White House a second time to ask about the dress code. Here in Tulare County, “dressed up” means that I iron a polo shirt for Michael to wear with decent jeans. “Formal” means his best Wranglers, boots, and a “sport” jacket. (“Sport?” What, is he going to play basketball??) Really really formal means a tie with the formal ensemble. The White House returned my fax with a phone call, and I was told in no uncertain terms that “No denim is allowed on the compound”.  This meant a major shopping expedition for Michael. Me? I found a $3 blue velveteen jacket at the local thrift shop, and since I have enough clothing for a small island nation of semi-shortish women who wear their skirts too long, this was adequate.

We arrived in style at the White House, and joined the queue to be officially identified as invited guests. Everyone was excited, dressed up, and friendly. When we finally got inside the White House, we began the shuffle down a long hall. Everything was interesting, everyone was nice, every moment was memorable and thrilling. There were 2 men at the reception wearing blue jeans. Michael asked one of them how he got away with that, and the guy said ,”I don’t dress up for nobody”. Apparently he doesn’t bother with proper English either.

The reception was in the East Room.

Outstanding food, and incredible to be there in every way. Here is the podium where Laura Bush spoke. We were too short and too far back in the crowd to see her. (I was wearing my highest heels, to no avail other than possibly doing permanent damage to my feet.)

The tree in The Blue Room was 18′ tall, and my ornament was placed in The Most Perfect Spot Imaginable. It doesn’t show in this blurry photo but appeared in a video of Mrs. Bush with her dogs.

Here is the view from the Blue Room where we were all standing around in shock and awe:

We handed the camera to a stranger to pose in The Red Room (this was in the Pre-selfie Era), and suddenly, the carriages turned to pumpkins. Everywhere we looked, a uniformed guard was saying, “This way please”. That had to have been the quickest 2 hours of my life! 

To be concluded on December 26, AKA Boxing Day. . .

Once we knew the date of the White House reception, I began making plans. We have very good friends in Pennsylvania who invited us to stay with them AND, get this, loaned us a car! So we flew into Harrisburg, which has rocking chairs in its airport. (Now that is a bit more common than in 2007.)

Here is how it looks around our friends’ neighborhood: 

After recovering from a red-eye flight (Note to self:  NEVER do that again), we drove to Old Town Alexandria, Virginia to the home of our friend/cabin neighbor/partner in The Cabins of Mineral King, Janey. The drive was so interesting to us. Just seeing signs along the freeway that mentioned Civil War battlegrounds was fascinating to these West-coasters. And the colors – this photo was taken at a rest stop.

I knew I would love Janey’s town from years of hearing about it. (Please excuse the car in the way – parking is at such a premium in her neighborhood that we had to have a permit for our borrowed car and she had to negotiate with a construction crew for a place to put the car.) These homes were built in the late 1700s, and I was instantly in love with the whole place.

We got all gussied up, and Janey drove us to the White House.  Tune in next week. . .