The White House at Christmas
One of the things Washingtonians take for granted is that our town, in addition to being where we live and work, is also where the President lives. I got invited through work to the White House Christmas open house yesterday. For all you Slow Christmasers out there who love a little Christmas porn, I’ll try to capture everything about the visit, and make you feel like you were there.
Outside, we waited in line in the bitter cold for an hour and a half, in anxious anticipation. Little kids brought by their parents to see some history in action were stamping their feet and chasing each other around the stationary grown-ups.
Once we made it inside, I was amazed at how small everything is up close. The State dining room is actually pretty intimate, though the placard said the room could be rigged to hold 140 people.
The State Dining Room
The White House gingerbread house, however, seemed larger than life. The house this year is made with 140 pounds of gingerbread and 250 pounds of white chocolate. The surface looked so smooth and buttery, I was sorely tempted to lick it, just a little, to verify that it was white chocolate and not marzipan or some other gross baking cheat. But, remembering myself (and my career) I managed to stay behind the rope. After all, what kind of an Administration would stoop to calling something chocolate if it was really marzipan? It would be cruel and unusual.
Complete with a tiny Bo, and Michelle's vegetable garden with marzipan radishes
Michelle Obama had the idea this year to send all the old glass presidential ornaments that had accumulated over the years around the country to be repurposed and designed by Americans, then hung on the main tree in the White House. There’s a Georgia Peach covered in peach papier-maché, a blue Native American ornament with suede fringe, and a few covered in little kid drawings.
The main attraction
Another tree with the gold leaves, which I may or may not have stared into for 10 minutes.
You are getting fery sleeepy...
And finally, a room where it’s Christmas all year round: The Red Room.
Decorated with cranberries, natch.
I will say that without the Obama family in the tableau, all that holiday decoration seemed like it was waiting for its big moment. My guess is that upstairs in the living quarters is where the real Christmas spirit in the building resides. You can almost picture it, Sasha and Malia hanging their childhood stockings brought from Chicago, Barack reminding them teasingly about the threat of coal, and Grandma Robinson rolling her eyes just in case they actually believed him. My guess is, upstairs looks a lot like it does in houses all around the country. Messy, exuberant, and eagerly awaiting the best morning of the year. Signing off, your Slow Christmas special correspondent.
