We face various constraints, such as facilities limitations ... and inclement weather (SerialNo.110-90)

TJ's family was supposed to come visit during a long weekend in January, but due to unforeseen issues, they didn't make it. So we invited them back to visit during the next three-day weekend, and they braved the cold weather to do so. The first time around, one of their requests was to visit the Washington Monument, so we reserved tickets. When they couldn't make it, we invited a couple of friends to take their place. But the skies were so overcast and foggy that you couldn't take advantage of the view (left). Instead, we pointed out famous landmarks in the photos above the windows (right). 

 

The second time around, the family's request remained, but all the reserved tickets were taken. Each day, the National Park Service hands out tickets on a first-come first-serve basis, starting at 8:30 a.m. We got up early to get downtown, and we were rewarded not only with tickets, but also with much better views than our earlier visit. This time, instead of seeing water droplets, I could see the water of the Tidal Basin surrounding the Thomas Jefferson Memorial (top). Before, I could barely make out the Lincoln Memorial, but this time I could see it and beyond into Virginia (bottom).

 

 

The White House was covered in haze during our first visit, but on this day it was clear enough to see from the Ellipse all the way to the National Cathedral (top). Luckily, back in December, TJ and I got a close-up view of the president's house when we went there to bask in the holiday spirit of its wreaths and the National Christmas Tree (bottom).

 

 

Even while riding down the elevator, when they slow to show you some of the commemorative stones, I got a better glimpse of the markers. I just saw the back of some kids' heads before, but this time I got a shot of half of the stone from Fort Greene, home of the Brooklyn Navy Yard, where the USS Maine was built a few years after the marker was donated.

 

The Mall was so fogged in the first time that I didn't even bother to take a photo of it. This time, I got a clear view of the U.S. Capitol and the turf-reconstruction work going on in front of it. In case you can't tell, the patch closest to the Capitol is finished, but the entire project isn't slated to be completed until before the 2017 inauguration.

After some lunch and a stop at the National Archives -- where we digested the significance of the Magna Carta, the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and the Emancipation Proclamation -- we witnessed what these documents hath wrought during a tour of the Capitol (top left). We gazed upon the donut hole of the Rotunda, which like the Washington Monument is being restored after some damage from the 2011 earthquake (top right). It seems that none of the state submissions to the National Statuary Hall were affected by the tremor (bottom left), and its nearby epicenter didn't shift the golden center of Washington, located in the building's Crypt (bottom right).

From the city's axis, we spiraled out into its quadrants, with a jaunt through the jungle section of the U.S Botanic Garden (top left) and a step back in time at the National Museum of American History. I jealously perused Julia Child's kitchen, as recreated in the "Transforming the American Table" exhibit (top right). We shut down the museum then swung by the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial (bottom left) and Korean War Veterans Memorial (bottom right) before heading home for the night.

It was a whirlwind day of sightseeing, but I was glad we saw so much by foot because the next day was the wind-chill day of our city safari. With temperatures below freezing and the "real feel" even further below that, we selected a slate of mostly indoor activities. We spent a little more time at the U.S. history museum before seeking shelter in the National Cathedral (top left). I had been to the church before, but it must not have been on a sunny day because I don't remember the stained glass being so spectacular (top right). I also don't remember adequately admiring the needlework of the Tree of Life in the War Memorial Chapel (bottom left) or the mosaics in the Resurrection Chapel (bottom right), located at the crypt level beside the Bethlehem Chapel and the St. Joseph of Arimathea Chapel. 

We experienced the second great view of the weekend by heading to the cathedral's Observation Gallery, from which we could look back on the national monument and legislative offices we visited the previous day (left). The president's house was hidden by the trees, but the Vice President's Residence peeked out from a clearing on the grounds of the U.S. Naval Observatory (right). 

After hearing the wind shaking the windows of the gallery, we decided to skip a trip through the National Zoo. We figured the pandas would be snuggled up inside, so we huddled up with our buddy Abraham outside at President Lincoln's Cottage, on the grounds of the U.S. Soldiers' Home (left). According to a plaque by his statue (right), Lincoln rode from the "cottage" to the Capitol every day during the summers of his presidency to avoid the muck and mosquitoes downtown. As my face was being stung by the wind, I begged to differ with good old Abe -- a mosquito bite didn't seem so bad at the moment.

Trying to find new work, going out and pounding the pavement day after day (159Cong.Rec.S8804)

I guess it's time for me to go public: In a little while, I will no longer be an EFM (Eligible Family Member). Oh don't worry, TJ and I didn't divorce. It's just that I recently received an invitation to the Department of State's 181st A-100 class, which means my acronym will soon morph into three different letters: FSO (Foreign Service Officer).

Any FSO can tell you what a relief this is. The process to become employed by the Foreign Service is a long and arduous one. Here's the not-so-short version of mine: After a post-bocce discussion way back in the summer of '11, I signed up to take the free general Foreign Service Officer Test. Despite the little history and government that I gleaned from my "substandard" public schooling, I managed to pass. This meant I was allowed to submit my Personal Narrative responses to another three-letter acronym: the QEP, or Qualifications Evaluation Panel. The panel was so impressed -- or confused -- by my answers that I was invited to the Foreign Service Oral Assessment of this extended tryout in the fall of that same year. Once again, a miracle occurred, and I scraped by with a just-barely-above-board score.

But even after passing all of the tests, my suitability was still up for review. I had to go through medical and security checks. Even with my numerous addresses, including just a few overseas, the Final Review Panel declared me suitable in early 2012. Being declared "suitable" means you are placed on a "register" of acceptable candidates. When the Foreign Service calls up new officers, they invite people from the top of this register; if you are not called within 18 months, you drop off the list completely and must start the entire process all over again.

By virtue of my low "orals" score, I was at the bottom of the list, and therefore I had little hope. So in an act of desperation, I tried to boost my score by proving my Spanish-language skills over the phone. The proof, as they say, was not in the pudding, so I opted to "freeze" my candidacy for 24 months while I followed TJ around to Mexico and Pakistan; this meant my 18-month "diplomatic clock" was not ticking down for those two years.

When we returned to the States for TJ's training in 2014, I had no choice but to restart my clock. But as the little hand was so slowly moving, I was studying Russian. Just in the nick of time, I managed to earn some language bonus points with my Russian-speaking skills, which boosted me toward the top of the candidate list. Not long after, a new class of officers was called up, and I was among them.

So for me, the process to get a job as an FSO took 3-1/2 years (I can't be sure, but this could be some kind of record for a one-time candidacy). And indeed, this process was often challenging and sometimes frustrating. Coincidentally, I also have been an EFM for about 3-1/2 years, and for much of that time I was actively looking for employment. So before I fully make the switch to FSO, I want to give a much-deserved shoutout to my fellow EFMs because their process to find a job is often just as long and arduous.

Here's the not-so-short list of the efforts I went through to try to become employed as I "trailed" my spouse overseas:

• I took private-sector jobs below my level of expertise in order to not have gaps in my resume.
• I applied for every job advertised at post to demonstrate my serious interest; each time, I had to fill out the exact same lengthy form, and I was not allowed to simply indicate that no details had changed since my last application. 
• I waited only a short time to receive a security clearance for my first embassy job (another three letters: CLO, or Community Liaison Officer), mainly because the process had already been initiated after I passed the "orals" (many other EFMs wait months or years to start a job because it takes that long to get a clearance).
• I hodgepodged together four part-time jobs to give myself full-time work.
• I took at-post and distance-learning language courses in my "spare time."
• I woke up at the crack of dawn to consult with my language instructor or to interview for jobs (stupid time zones).
• I stayed up late at night to consult with a Global Employment Initiative adviser about resume formats and job prospects (stupid time zones).
• I regularly stalked USAJobs, devex, the PROPs group on LinkedIn, and The Network. 
• I attended numerous daylong workshops on employment tools, portable careers, and non-governmental organizations.
• I attended multiweek functional training classes, such as the Basic Consular Course, otherwise known as ConGen.
• I established qualifications in six areas of the Expanded Professional Associates Program.
• I successfully applied for the EFM Consular Adjudicator Pilot Program.
• I sought a Professional Development Fellowship to pay for classes to earn a certificate that would help expand my career opportunities. 

That's a pretty long list, right? And it might seem like I'm complaining (and I am, but only a little); actually, I am extremely thankful for all the opportunities that the State Department, especially the Family Liaison Office, provides. But it takes a great deal of effort to take advantage of all of these programs. In other words, the process to become employed as an EFM is often as stressful and difficult as -- if not more stressful and difficult than -- the process to become employed as an FSO. And EFMs have to go through this process not just once, but every time their spouses change post! (I know, I know, some FSOs went through the testing process multiple times before they were hired, but that was by their choice.)

Obtaining a job as an EFM is often a job within itself. Therefore, it is no surprise to me when EFMs give up on the process or opt out of post employment altogether. I do not have children to take care of, and I did not give up an extremely high-paying career -- and still, at times, I felt more than daunted and jaded about the possibility of finding employment.

Incidentally, upon reading this post and finding out about my new job, a lot of people probably will congratulate me. And trust me, I will appreciate all those well wishes. But if you really want to spread some joy, congratulate the next EFM you know who gets a job. He or she worked hard for it.

Consumers of alcoholic beverages choose between hard cider and beer (S.Rept.105-33)

Considering that we move a bunch of crap nearly every two or three years, TJ and I have an unspoken pact that we generally try not to give each other non-consumable presents. So for Christmas, I put into effect the "teach a man to fish" philosophy and bought him enrollment in a one-day cider-making class at Distillery Lane Ciderworks near Burkittsville, which we visited back in the fall.

During that visit, TJ bought some non-alcoholic cider that he fermented into alcoholic cider. After all, the process is less complicated than homebrewing, with which he already has experience. The first batch of cider came out quite tasty, so TJ wanted to get some further tips and try a second one. I accompanied him to the class, basically because I knew free cider samples would be on hand.

Quite a bit of the class took place inside the apple-pressing room in the form of lectures, demonstrations, and Q&A periods (read: no good picture-taking opportunities). But the owner got us outside to show us some of the operations of the orchard, which was nice since we didn't even notice and therefore follow the self-guided tour signs during our previous visit.

First, he explained the process of actually growing apple trees. Apparently, if you plant apple seeds, there is no telling what kind of apple will sprout; a Granny Smith seed does not get you more Granny Smiths, for example. And buying and planting full-grown trees is expensive and difficult. So growers start specific varieties of new trees by grafting, in which a branch is attached to an already-planted tree base. This farm mainly uses the whip-graft technique, in which the branch and base are notched then taped together (left). According to genomic studies, the apple originated in Kazakhstan, so the farm bought some untested sprouts from the Central Asian country, but it still has to wait a few years to see what type of fruit -- tart to sweet -- they bear (right).

During the winter, the main operations of the orchard center on maintenance. All the trees are pruned to keep branches growing slightly above parallel to the ground, which allows them to get the right amount of sunlight and bear the weight of the apples (left). Bad apples that fall to the ground and rot before they can be harvested are collected and distributed to South Mountain Creamery to be used as cattle feed (right).

 

All the good apples, of course, have already been picked, then sold whole or pressed into cider, either alcoholic or not. The hard-cider process is pretty simple. It starts with sanitizing all ingredients and equipment so no bad bacteria throw off the flavor. Then yeast is added to initiate fermentation, which can last a month or longer. Then you drink the cider, or if you want sparkling cider, you leave it to carbonate in bottles for another couple of weeks. As you can see, the hardest part of the process is having patience. And on this day, we didn't have any, so we went to Mad Horse Brewpub in nearby Lovettsville (left). They didn't have cider on tap, so we tried the Falcon IPA, Nut Brown Ale, Pony Pale Ale, Abbey Ale, and Stout instead (right).

Besides cider and beer, the only way to make this present even more perfect for TJ was to let him go running in the mountains. So we headed to Gathland State Park, formerly the site of the Gapland estate of George Alfred Townsend, whose empty crypt sits right next to the Appalachian Trail (left). Townsend, who ended up being buried next to wife in Philadelphia, was a Civil War correspondent who wrote under the pen name "Gath," which is how the park got its modern name. On the grounds of the park is a War Correspondents Memorial Arch that Townsend built in honor of his fellow reporters (right).

 

The state park also pays homage to the 6,100 soldiers who were killed, wounded, or missing because of events at the South Mountain State Battlefield. Union troops wanted to pass through Crampton's Gap in order to get at Confederate troops being led by Gen. Robert E. Lee. They didn't entirely succeed, but they weakened his forces before the Battle of Antietam three days later. That bloodiest day in American military history was thankfully a distant memory as we watched the sun set over the Blue Ridge Mountains on our way home, where hopefully we soon will have a few gallons of cider to sip.

I cannot be accused of simply backing an old chum! (146Cong.Rec.S4255)

I'm an opportunist, by which I mean that I take advantage of opportunities, even if it means me elbowing my way into someone else's plans. Some friends of mine announced publicly on Facebook that they were going to New York City to see a show. Unfortunately for them, this was a show that I wanted to see, so I invited myself to join them. Lucky for me, they were gracious enough to act like they didn't mind.

So after class on a Friday night, I took the bus from DC to the Big Apple. From the dropoff point by Penn Station, I walked to our hotel, The Evelyn, which was literally right around the corner from the Museum of Sex (left). Admission to the museum cost $17.50, so I settled instead for gawking at its gift shop and strolling to the nearest phallic symbol. Luckily, the Flatiron Building was only a few blocks south on Fifth Avenue (right).

After having taken my language test the Monday before, I was ready for a release from Russian. But it seems I couldn't escape it. One of the original tenants of the Flatiron, formerly the Fuller Building, was the Imperial Russian consulate, and just to the north of our hotel was Saint-Petersburg (left), an outlet of the same FromRussian.com that has a shop in Brighton Beach, also know as NYC's Little Odessa. I knew I wasn't going to have time to get to Brooklyn, so I shared some of my rocky Russian with the storekeeper as I scanned some matryoshkas (right). 

Also near our hotel was the famed French flare of Brasserie Les Halles, Anthony Bourdain's former restaurant. I didn't eat there, but I had a lovely meal of some French-inspired chicken risotto and Jenlain Ambrée, a farmhouse ale, at Le Grainne Cafe in Chelsea. Earlier in the day, I had a "house-made veggie burger" from Spring Street Natural in SoHo. 

But the best treat I had during my trip was a cafe au lait ring from Dough Doughnuts (top left), next-door neighbor of Idlewild Books, a store devoted to travel literature and guides; to be honest, it was hard to decide which place offered more tempting treats. Luckily, I had already fed my cover-browsing addiction at The Strand bookstore, where the staff either has a strange sense of humor or a unique outlook on humanity when it comes to recommending books. I don't really associate a pig's head on a stick with overcoming heartbreak, but that might work for some people (top right). Me, I would prefer to mend my heart by window-shopping at Citipups, which is an acceptable form of recovery because, in case you can't see the sign, the store does not support puppy mills (bottom). It should be noted that there was no sign about whether it supports using adorable fluffballs to entice shoppers into its stores. 

 

I knew I couldn't smuggle a puppy home in my backback, so I did my next stint of shopping at Chelsea Market (top left), where I could ingest my purchases instead of bringing them back on the bus. But that doughnut was pretty filling, so the only thing I bought was from the Filling Station: a Stillwater Existent, a dark farmhouse ale (top right). I even managed to refrain from indulging at Los Tacos No. 1, which seemed to be serving up my kind of traditional tacos, the likes of which I haven't seen since Las Ahumaderas taco street in Tijuana (bottom). 

I didn't realize until later that I could've used the food fuel as I took a self-led walking tour of some of the city's most distinctive sights. Book lover that I am, I headed straight to see those lions at the New York Public Library (top). The main lobby of the Schwarzman Building was a spectacular place to take a break from the biting cold (bottom left). Unfortunately, the beautiful Rose Main Reading Room was closed for renovations, but visitors were still allowed to crimp their necks looking up at the murals of the wood-paneled entrance (bottom right). 

Behind the library, a Winter Village, complete with ice-skating rink, was in full swing (top left). The frozen fountain was a nice touch, but somehow, I think it wasn't planned (top right). From beside of the library, you could catch a good view of the Chrysler Building down the road (bottom), but I had my sights set on another famous skyscraper.

From the winter wonderland at Bryant Park, I could barely spy the spire of the Empire State Building (left). After paying almost 30 dollars, I got a closer view of the famous lightning rod from the building's 86th-floor observation deck (right). I did not opt to pay $17 more to go up 16 more floors to the 102nd floor above. 

 

It was a cold and overcast day, but if you could stand to be out in the windchill for a few minutes, you could look all the way down to Lower Manhattan (top). Through the zoom of my camera, I could see One World Trade Center and the Statue of Liberty in pretty good detail (bottom left). I didn't expect the people-watching to be so fascinating, but it was fun to eavesdrop on single people Skyping and Facetiming from the deck and to watch cute couples cuddling up while they took in the view (bottom right).

 

But of course, the main show I had come to see was on Broadway: a Saturday matinee of Cabaret with Alan Cumming and Emma Stone (top). Cumming, in an excellent turn as the Emcee, filled the Roundabout Theater Company at Studio 54 with talent all the way to our seats in the back row. We made the day a double-header by taking in some evening improv by The Curfew at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre. Afterward, we capped off the night with cocktails at Black Door bar, where we serendipitously ran into an Australian couple who had followed our day's itinerary nearly to a tee. The meeting was serendipitous mostly because they bought us a bunch of drinks. But all good things must come to end, so I allowed myself one more glimpse of the bright lights of Times Square (bottom left) before I dodged the taxis around Madison Square Garden to catch my bus back to DC (bottom right).