into October

Wow, coming onto the halfway point in October and I'm a little sad at how fast my favorite season of the year is going by! I love, love, love the fall, with it's crispy sunny days and cool nights. No more humidity and no more sweating. I love warm sweaters and boots. So I guess it's good that I'm going to Norway and not Jamaica. I'm sure I'll get plenty of use out of my closet full of coats of different thicknesses and sweaters of every color. I was so excited about fall that when the weather was still in the 80s back in September I went to the local thrift shop and bought 5 sweaters (included 3 cashmere) for $50. Score!

Another thing that has come and gone is my birthday. I'm not longer 30. Sigh. But it was an amazing birthday weekend that spoiled me beyond belief. I was surprised on a beautiful autumn morning with a birthday horseback trail ride! It turns out that Rock Creek Park was originally created by Congress as a place for the rich to ride their horses, and this tradition continues at the Rock Creek Horse Center with lessons and trail rides. Had I known this earlier I might have signed up for English riding lessons :-).

After the ride and a relaxing wine and cheese picnic, we traveled down to Old Town Alexandria to have dinner and see the sights. Old Town is a colonial town that is now populated by shops and restaurants with plenty of tourists wandering about on Saturday night. The quiet evening was briefly interrupted by being witnesses to a purse-snatching. I felt really bad for the 10-year old girl who had her panda purse stolen by a pack of wayward teens (seriously, who does that??).

Afterwards, instead of trekking back into DC on the metro, we decided to travel back in style via the water taxi that runs between Alexandria and Georgetown. Seeing the monuments at night from the water was gorgeous, and we were practically alone on the boat. Overall an amazing day and evening spent checking things off my DC to-do list (horseback riding, Alexandria, and river boat were all on there). It was exactly what I needed for a low-key birthday to welcome the 30s.

Lincoln and Washington Monuments from the Potomac

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Hillwood Estates

A moving picture of the French Gardens (created using cinemagr.am)

Yesterday was Museum Day across the country, meaning free admission at thousands of museums.  In DC we are very fortunate to have dozens of free museums through the Smithsonian Institution, the National Galleries, and other amazing spots.  But there are a few really great places that are private and thus cost a steep $15-$20 for entry. Knowing that it is pretty unlikely that I will willingly shell out several beers worth of money to see a museum with so many free options at hand, I took yesterday as an opportunity to see one of these costlier (by comparison to nothing) museums.

The Hillwood Estate, Museum, and Garden is the former private residence of Marjorie Merriweather Post and is now a beautifully archived collection of art and Russian artifacts spread throughout a her mansion and surrounded by amazing gardens.  Mrs. Post was the heiress to the Post cereal fortune and during her life collected art and decorative pieces, eventually deciding that her collection was best suited for public consumption. She meant her home to be a living museum, and indeed it was breathtaking.  Every nook and cranny was filled with intricately carved furniture, tiny porcelain collectables, and priceless jewels.  After a short stay in the Soviet Union during the 1930s, she  amassed a huge collection of Russian treasures (saving them from destruction during the tumultuous revolutionary period there). 

While I used the excuse of free admission to pay Hillwood a visit, it is entirely worth the $15 admission fee.  Visitors are invited to picnic on the vast grounds and you could spend hours wandering through the house and the gardens.  Mrs. Post had extravagant taste, but you can tell that the place was really a home, with personality. I loved it, and am now a little sad that I waited until now to check it out.

c. 1830 vase in cased glass from Russian Imperial Glassworks

Breakfast room with bronze place setting.

Red roses from the cutting garden. 

Pet Cemetery at Hillwood.

A "paper" dress from the Pret-a-papier exhibition of French artist Isabelle de Borchgrave. 

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Alt for Norge

Three weeks into language training and my brain is starting to feel the burn. And even though I had the good fortune of a head start given my previous study of Norwegian, the pace we go is quite brisk. That being said, I'm still loving it and have no complaints about being a full-time student.

One great side effect of being immersed in all things Norwegian is that I've connected more with at least one small part of my ancestral heritage.  Like most Americans, my great grandparents came from all over the world to seek a new life here in the USA and I enjoy affiliating with the "old world" part of my heritage. Growing up, Norway was the dominate culture I was exposed to, though I'm also made up of Swedish, Dutch, German, and Polish. Maybe it was growing up in the Lutheran church, but my Norwegian roots always seemed the most exciting.

So when I discovered that there was a Norwegian Reality TV show based on the premise of Americans of Norwegian heritage returning to Norway to prove their "Norwegianness", I knew that I had to see this show. My teacher told us that this show, Alt for Norge (meaning "Everything for Norway"), is very popular and is now on it's third season, but sadly it cannot be found on TV in the U.S.  However, industrious youtube users have taken the time to put Season 1 up in 15 minute segments, all of which can be found here. Some highlights of the show include competing like high school graduates in "russ" and rowing a viking boat in an absolutely gorgeous fjord. I can totally relate to the contestants, who may be 1/16 Norwegian, but are drawn to their Viking roots and want nothing more than to win the show so they can meet their Norwegian family (yes, that's the prize).

Below is the "Russ" Episode of Alt for Norge, since I can't even begin to explain the silly tradition. If the embed doesn't show, the link is here - http://youtu.be/F8h55ANleFY.

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in service

This week has been a strange one. With the killing of the U.S. Ambassador and 3 other U.S. Officers in Libya and the many ongoing uprisings in the Middle East, there has been a lot of media attention focused on this career that is still oh so new to me. Most people know that we have a Secretary of State and some number of Embassies overseas. But when asked about the Foreign Service or diplomacy, I'm sure that the average American pictures old white men in suits sitting around smoking cigars, drinking wine, or something along those lines. Fortunately, times have changed and so has the nature of this profession.

We are younger, more diverse, and way more female than just a few decades ago (though we still have some work to do). And while we still entertain and build connections at receptions over wine, we are just as likely to ride hours along a dusty road to go meet leaders in a small village way off the beaten path. Like any government agency, I don't think the State Department is above criticism, and it is always productive to examine our institutions critically, but the last week has been a little crazy. Rather than try to expand my own thoughts, it's probably safer to turn to a few of the many news pieces that

Our Diplomats Deserve Better - New York Times Op-Ed by Ambassador Prudence Bushnell
I had the great pleasure and honor of attending a small leadership seminar where Ambassador Bushnell came and spoke. Her experience during the Kenya Embassy bombing and work at the Department during the Rwandan genocide is heartbreaking. But, even after all of that she believed in the mission and work, and her words were what inspired me to pursue the Foreign Service.

A couple other good reads:

The Thankless Task of the U.S. Diplomat - Foreign Policy by Colum Lynch

America's Other Army - Foreign Policy by Nicholas Kralev

Foreign Service Families Know the Risk but Believe in the Work - Washington Post by Janice D'Arcy

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