The main reason that many people come to DC is to see the site of government. They want to walk the streets that Lincoln walked or stare at the place where Daniel Webster made his famous speech (he’s an old timey US Senator, folks, learn your history), or to see where Brown vs. Board of Education was argued. (For those who aren’t sure, that’s Pennsylvania Avenue, the US Capitol, and the US Supreme Court, respectively.) I’m going to touch on the biggies here but obviously, there may be places of personal interest to you specifically. Feel free to make suggestions or ask questions. Also note that I won’t particularly get into the history or exact locations. This is mostly an impression/link collection sort of guide.

The United States Capitol

We’ll start with the place in the picture at the top! The United States Capitol is one of the more recognizable buildings in the world. It houses the United States Senate and the United States House of Representatives. Once upon a time it even housed the United States Supreme Court but they’ve had their own building since 1935.

Just approaching the Capitol from the National Mall side (and that’s Mall as in the old fashioned version, a long open grassy area, not a place of shopping hell) is enough to give you shivers. There is a large pool in front (don’t put your fingers in that water as it is a favorite swimming place of various local avians) of the even larger staircase that is used in presidential inaugurations. You can climb up the steps but not get in the building. If you want to do that, you must walk around (and around and around, it’s a decent little hike) to the lesser known but more shaded area that is the actual “front” of the Capitol. This is where you stand in line for a security check and to gain entry via a tour group.

Once upon a time (ie, before September 11th), you could wander almost at will around the Capitol, exploring the public passages at your leisure and lingering where you were wont to linger. I even managed to walk the tunnel between the various office buildings and the Capitol building itself. Obviously, times have changed. I haven’t been back since 9/11 to witness for myself but there’s a fairly good visitors writeup on the US Senate Visitor’s guide that lays out the current procedure (my mom swears that you can still wander at will but I won’t vouch for that myself till I go again). With visiting hours from 9:30-4:30, there’s a decent amount of time in a day to take a peek.

The United States Supreme Court

Ah, yes. The Supreme Court. Frankly, a place I’ve never actually gone. But as it is located quite near the visitor’s side of the Capitol, it’s a lovely little building to stand outside and it can get rather lively, depending on what case is being described. As I’ve not actually visited, I shall merely provide an information guide to visiting the building–it’s open from 9 to 4:30.

The Library of Congress
The Library of Congress is located right next to the Supreme Court. I’ve never actually been inside (a fact which nearly sent my librarian mother into heart attack mode) so I’ll just leave that link up for you, my reading individual, to peruse yourself.

The White House
The White House is another one of those instantly recognizable Washington icons. It is a good hike away from the Capitol (and frankly would be better visited via Metro) but provides an interesting stroll if you’re feeling particularly athletic. Or adventurous. There’s a fun little virtual tour of the White House on the website which, frankly, may be the easiest way to actually see the building. It isn’t easy to get a real tour of the building–it never has been. Given that you’re required to have a group of at least ten and you have to ask through your Congressman, I suppose it would be difficult for a non-American to set up a tour themselves.

But there’s plenty to see in DC so why despair about missing out on that?

The National Archives

The National Archives used to be a more obscure spot to stop in DC. While it does house the Declaration of Independence, the Articles of Confederation, the US Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and lots of other important documents, it didn’t have the “sexiness” of the various Smithsonian museums. But! Ever since the Hollywood movie National Treasure, it’s been a happening place. Which is fine by me. Get there early to avoid a long wait–it’s open from 9-5 some days and 9-9 others.

The J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building

All you can do is walk by it. It’s really that ugly. But….uh. I guess it’s impressive?

The Canadian Embassy

Given that the original people this is intended for are, in fact, Canadians, I thought it fitting to include the <a href=”http://geo.international.gc.ca/can-am/washington/menu-fr.asp?lang_update=1″>Ambassade du Canada a Washington</a> in this little link up. While, obviously, not an American government building, it IS in fact a government building. Oddly, it has a prime spot in DC, located right in the thick of everything, on Pennsylvania Avenue. Every time I pass it, I think “I should take a peek inside” but something about that maple leaf keeps me right on walking….

Actually, another fun governmental style thing to do in DC is to walk along Embassy Row. The link gets you the “virtual embassy resource” for the foreign government community of DC but there’s a few fun links to various walks or places to go along Massachusetts Ave (where the bulk of embassies are located, eh, Canada? ).

1. Everyone goes to the Smithsonian on field trips.

2. All museums are free.

3. All pigeons are the size of rats and shamelessly beg for food while you’re eating lunch.

When I went to college and started seeing more of the world, I came to a few horrifying realizations: if you don’t live in the DC suburbs, you most certainly do not visit the Air and Space museum every year, most museums are free and I was frankly a little spoiled bugger, and pigeons are disgusting and aren’t supposed to be that big.

DC was so mundane to me that I scorned it in my twenties, forgetting most of the more exotic features of the city and having only hazy memories of the major museums. If I took a trip, it was more likely to be toward the beach or Chicago or some other place that was away from this area altogether.

Thus, it was left to my thirties are returning to the area for me to discover the real wonder and fun that is DC again. No, ones of you out there even more sarcastic than I am, that isn’t a joke. It is a fun place! Not necessarily from a teenager’s point of view but as they hate everything and as I’m not one, screw them! Ok, maybe not. But I am an adult now and have an adult’s interests and that’s what will be addressed in my little guides.

Guides? Why yes! I have a friend and his wife (from out of the country, no less! (yes, Canada is out of the country)) who will be visiting the DC area for a visit. So I’m going to put together a few quick little guides to help him with trip planning. I’ve thought about this for a time and think that it will require a few breakdowns, to keep it manageable. As I write up posts, I shall link them below:

The DC Government Buildings Summary

So keep your eyes peeled and feel free to chime in!

I have a son. He is five, at this point. He is beautiful, with big blue eyes, sandy blond hair, a dimple in his cheek. He likes to laugh, he plays like crazy, he’s the “happy kid” (I always have people going “The Boy is so happy!”), and he’s the love of my life–in that wonderful special bond that a mother has with her children. He loves cats, dogs, t-ball, any Pixar movie, eating lots of food, and all the other sorts of things that five year olds enjoy.

He is also on the Autism Spectrum.

Autism is strange. Most people think of Rainman when they hear the word autism. I knew a touch more than most because I have a cousin who is severely autistic. I don’t see him often as he lives in the greater Chicago area but I’d hear the occasional story or see him at the occasional family event. He’s non-verbal, wild, restless but he’d burst into laughter or smile or hug my uncle from time to time. He’s the traditional image of an autistic child you see in the media: rocking, self-absorbed, effectively mute. He’s also my cousin and hard as it is to communicate with him, he has the family’s love (which in my massive family can be downright overwhelming) and has made real progress as my aunt and uncle struggle with his treatment.

If that’s all you’ve seen of autism, you relax when you see your child behaving in a typical fashion–starting to talk, walk, hug you, smile, laugh. All those things that you go “hey, autistic kids don’t do that, surely, I must have dodged the bullet.” You aren’t told, as a new parent, that there are other signs of autism (and this is only an abbreviated list, simplified because I don’t have the formal sheet in front of me at the moment): certain types of play, inappropriate laughter, speech delays, motor delays, refusals to meet the eyes of those he is talking to, fixations on either items or certain words, echolalia. These are all things you have to watch for, I was told later. Except they don’t tell you that when you’re holding your newborn or infant.

So, when The Boy was evaluated at two for speech and motor skills (and I thank god on a regular basis that the part-time daycare he was in was staffed with observant and intelligent people) and they did a conference and carefully and delicately explained that he showed signs of autism, I mentally shut down. My grandmother had died two days before and I was literally leaving the meeting to drive to her funeral. I couldn’t believe that my smiling, laughing, loving little boy was in the same class as my cousin (I was woefully uninformed in those days) and I refused to take their observations seriously. They didn’t know my son. They were wrong.

The results were enough to get The Boy into the special education preschool at my local school system (at the time, I was living in Southeast Michigan). I still miss those teachers–he had the same teacher, aide, speech therapist and occupational therapist for two years and with their guidance, The Boy made fantastic strides. And he loved being in school, trotting off with his backpack bouncing on his back and a big smile on his face.

But I wouldn’t acknowledge that it was anything but simple delays. And part of this comes from the difficulty of diagnosing high-functioning autism. The spectrum is so vague, so wide, that plenty of kids would seem to be on it at a young age. Our pediatricians and school officials were all cautious and said over and over “give him time, give him time”. I was happy to take that recommendation because the alternative was terrifying.

He has gotten better. Huge strides have been made in his speech, though he still doesn’t communicate very much and is rather self-absorbed. His physical skills are much better: he cuts well, he writes well for a child his age, his drawings of people have made real progress, he can climb like a little monkey. He’s funny, he’s loving, and despite his inability to communicate well at times, other kids like him and invite him to play.

But he is still on the spectrum, somewhere. I’ve finally come to terms with this, in my heart and mind. I can imagine some people judging me, right now, right here. Sure, I suppose, it could be deserved. But when you have supposed experts in your life saying, “Just wait, just wait” over and over, it’s easy to pull some reassurance from it. It’s easy to just assume that it’s merely a delay and he’ll get over it–half the people are telling you that, after all. But you can’t know the terror of having your child diagnosed with something out of the ordinary, something that will affect him his whole life and could keep him separate from society in some way his entire life. You can’t know that till it happens to you or someone incredibly close to you. I certainly had no idea. Frankly, I hope most readers out there never ever have to experience it.

But it isn’t that simple and that’s a cowards way out so I’m finally doing the right thing. Our insurance covers a visit to The Kennedy-Krieger Institute, one of the premier institutes in the country for diagnosing and treating the autism spectrum. I feel confident that we will find more ways to help The Boy progress toward kindergarten.

It is a lonely feeling, however, having a special-needs child. Most people don’t understand your world and either pity you or avoid you for fear that their own child will be “affected” or “infected” or some sort of trashy nonsense. I sometimes lay in my bed at night and rip myself to shreds, blaming all of this on me: something I did, something I ate, some defect in my genes, something in what I didn’t do for him. It is easier to be rational in the light of day but in the dark of night, the heart takes over from the head and it isn’t usually pleasant.

I don’t know. I suppose like everything else in my life, this will be ongoing. I have my son and he’s perfect to me. Sometimes he makes me mad, frustrated, or sad. Sometimes, I feel like my heart will explode because of how much I love him. Either way, he’s mine and we’re together, us against the world. For good or bad, I can’t imagine this any other way. I suppose that’s the funny thing about life, hm?

Right, I know that right now you’re saying, “Crazy internet lady, you’ve said this before!”

Ok, ok, mea culpa, I totally have. Nonetheless, it is a goal of mine. It is one that has to be approached slowly and gingerly at the moment; I’m lacking in funds for frivolous things. It means a special weekend dinner here, a bottle of wine there (like maybe with a paycheck). I have decided that all of this learning in the beginning of a lifelong sort of lifestyle change and process so much as I’d like to just rush, I can’t and I’ll deal with it. Mostly.

Anyway, Saturday I decided to start trying to learn more about wines. I meandered down toFrederick Cellars (which is located in Shab Row for the Frederick-familiar). They have this really lovely, large space with high ceilings. It’s interesting, clearly a work in progress, but definitely full of potential as a place to have a few drinks or entertain a group. I was greeted by one of the owners, a lovely woman named Emily, and proceeded to enjoy myself greatly for the next hour, chatting with her and sampling a variety of the wines.

Initially, I tried to take a few notes on the wines I tasted (which were, by the way, their Chardonnay, Rose (which isn’t available for sale yet), Merlot, Riesling, and Eye of the Oriole (a rather pleasant blush)). I got a tasty dish with cheese, crackers, grapes, and a pair of chocolates made by The Perfect Truffle, a chocolate maker who retails there and in his own separate storefront further down Shab Row. I had all the best of intentions!

And yet Emily proved to be a great conversationalist, interesting, straight-forward, honest, and exactly what you’d hope to meet in someone who produces wine. Most definitely not the sort of vintner who takes a snobby route (my title for this entry is actually a twist on her words describing what wine is, at it’s core), I felt welcome and like I was being introduced to the wines, as opposed to be “sold” on the wines. I am not completely sure I can explain the difference but there is most assuredly one.

I walked out, satisfied, pleased, a bottle of the Riesling under my arm (which is amusing as I tend to buy reds when out and about). I learned quite a bit about how the Frederick Wine Trail was organized and how the various vineyards involved with it are actually working to complement their production, as opposed to directly competing. I have a much stronger feeling about wanting to sample the local wines produced in my own backyard.

It’s also making me want to do more about using the local farmer’s markets and producers of local eggs and milk products. I really wish it wasn’t so damned expensive. My education and practice will have to come slowly. But, nonetheless, I’m feeling confident that it will be sooner, rather than later.

I was lucky that my best friend, Galatea, had parents who took pity on me. She was an only child, I was the second of five. She lived in a quiet house with quiet music playing. I lived in a house that could be charitably called a zoo at the best of times. They, for whatever reason, took me under their wing. It was because of them that I experienced real stage shows: Les Miz, Once On This Island, various Kennedy Center performances. They introduced me to the concept of Chinese food (and the restaurant they did it at, China Garden is still one of my favorite places to eat in Frederick). Oh sure, Frederick was far from the growing cultural showpiece (I am typing that with a straight face, honest) that it is now. But there were a few places to try something outside the norm.

The other place I tried something unusual (before college, of course) was my friend the Token Indian’s house. (This is the internet so I am endeavoring not to use real names.) Now that I am a theoretical adult, I often wonder how hard it was for the Token Indian and his brother and sister in high school. They were one of two (literally only two, I believe) Indian families that went to our school and, sadly, one of very few minorities period in our farm country school. Was it hard dealing with all our ignorance (not malicious, just literal lack of exposure) on a daily basis or was it at least a good source of amusement? His mother was one of the loveliest women I knew (she wore saris every day, lovely jewel-toned fabric that was perfect against the coppery color of her skin) and I looked forward to chances to see her and secretly wished I could wear one of her outfits, just once, to see if they felt as luxurious as they looked.

Yeah, well. I was a teenager.

Regardless, I went over to his house only a few times. I should have gone more but the Token was a boy and thus things were odd that way. She served me some food one time when I went over and I should have been warned by the mischievous looks on their faces that I was about to get played. “Is this hot?” I asked nervously, taking the plate. “Oh no,” she assured me, “it’s very mild.” Oh sure, it was very mild for INDIAN food. I was a poor unsuspecting Irish girl who’d never had something truly spicy in her life. At least I wasn’t too embarrassed when they laughed at me and offered something to drink.

It took going to college and moving to different areas of the country before I was really exposed to different cuisines and tastes. That’s often the way of things and I still can’t eat very spicy foods–it hurts my stomach–and I won’t touch entrail foods (I won’t eat tripe or pigs feet–I have tried them and I don’t like them, thank you) and the like.

So I was overjoyed today when I found a place today that made my tummy extremely happy: My Thai. I had some fabulous pad thai and some really delicious sticky rice with mangoes. It was a small place, noisy enough to be lively without actually driving you crazy. And the fate part of the title? My waitress was the younger sister of a good friend of mine from high school that I hadn’t seen in years. Pleasant turn of events, all in all. And good food too. It’s funny how life does that.

Still, I’ll admit. I sat there eating going “I can’t believe there’s a good thai place in Frederick.” Funny how things change.

I’m a fairly good basic cook. I can do roasts, simple vegetables, easy baking, and the like. I’m slowly trying new recipes, new ingredients, new combinations. This is proving to be great fun, of course, though sometimes the experiments go horribly wrong.

I’ve had to learn where to look for more uncommon ingredients around Frederick. You have to understand, when I grew up in good ole Fredneck, it wasn’t the most sophisticated place.  It was still a sleepy farm town with basic supermarkets, a few basic restaurants that were good enough for prom, and not much else. Or, at least, to a high schooler not much else.

Much has changed since then. A variety of restaurants have opened in a revitalized downtown Frederick. My personal favorite right now is Isabellas, a tapas bar that has proved to be a great place to eat, over and over again; the weekday lunch deal especially is great. Proof Artisan Bakery has also been a wonderful find; I’ve picked up many special desserts there for both my family and for when I’m visiting others. Indeed, with the completion the Carroll Creek Project, downtown is a rather pleasant place to be now. I’ve not had much of a chance to go to many other places in the actual downtown area lately but I’m hoping to get to more dinners to try out various other places soon.

But of course, eating out is a very expensive thing rarely done. More often, I’m shopping for things and trying them out at home. There are several very good chains in the area of course–Giant, Bloom, and Safeway all have either new or recently remodeled stores within fifteen minutes drive of the house. There are also some specialized stores that are close by–the Common Market, for example, is a local co-op with some good organic and specialized foods. There are farmers markets as well though they only operate from May to October, alas. We don’t have the year-round food that California does.

And of course, there is also the liquid angle that you have to think about, isn’t there? I’m slowly learning about wine and this is a good area for wine education. We have a great local shop–Ye Old Spirit Shop–for both wine and beer. Additionally, I live within five to ten minutes drive of three of the areas local vineyards: Linganore Winecellars, Loew Vinyards, and Elk Run Vineyards. Additionally, Black Ankle Vineyards will be opening soon. And in Frederick, there’s the Frederick Wine Cellars, another place that’s proving to be great fun to try.

To be honest, a lot of these links are for my own sake but for those few of you who do occasionally come to this site who wander around Frederick looking for food stuff, I’m hoping to make this place a good information stepping stone.

Apparently, in the eighteen hundreds, rolling eggs on your lawn was a high passtime. Given the difficulty with keeping children entertained in an era that includes tv, the internet, and malls, I can sympathize with whichever parent dreamed this event up. It became so popular that in the Hayes administration, the White House started to host an annual event on Easter. It has managed to be elevated to a top-notch event in the DC area, to the point where when the free tickets are being handed out by the Park Service, people camp out the night before to secure a set.

Which is what my brother did. Since he was accompanying a friend, he decided to pick up a set and offer them to me to take the boy out to the South Lawn of the White House and join the festivities. Despite misgivings associated with taking a boy with autism to an event such as this, I did. I don’t regret it but it proved to be a perfect example of what life with The Boy is like.

We headed down to Metro reasonably early in the morning; we were to enter the South Lawn at a designated time on our tickets. Having grown up in the DC area, I outright refuse to drive in DC itself–it is a nightmare of strange streets, questionable neighborhoods and vastly overpriced parking. Metro is quick, efficient and I don’t have to drive on the beltway. Win.

We ended up at the Ronald Reagan Building which has a fabulous food court and is right on the blue and orange line. We took this opportunity to fuel up for our time outside. After some beverages and a tasty treat–The Boy’s favorite part–we headed out into the streets of DC to head for the Ellipse (which is the place where the national christmas tree is every year).

It was very crowded but The Boy was extremely excited. He ran around the lawn area with glee and was thrilled to use the portapotties that were on the lot. I dunno, I guess he felt like a big boy. Gross. Either way, we had to wade through a crowd of people to get to the tents that we were to wait in.

It was a rugby queue. For every polite person who was waiting quietly with their children, there was a psychotic grandmother who would run you down to try to get closer to the front. And then the line was finally released, leaving people yelling and pushing, if only to escape the dark gloom of the tent. Still, after a brief wait in a security line (to be expected) and a small hike, we were on the White House grounds.

It was a zoo. Every actual event had a long line of impatient children and long suffering adults. The actual roll line was so long, I knew in advance The Boy wouldn’t be participating. He wanted to paint but again, that line was so long, it wasn’t going to happen. There was a great deal of music, at various stations. This included the Jonas Brothers, that teenybopper band that actually reduced the gathered preteens to screaming. It was horrible.

Regardless, there were lots of places to play and stare and that very choice left The Boy overwhelmed and exasperated. He ran from place to place, unable to focus on any one thing for any length of time. He colored, watched water, watched people, watched performers until he started to beg for food. Frankly, the crowds overwhelmed me as well and I was happy to oblige, picking up our goody bag on the way out. My mother lead the way up 17th street till we found a place to eat. This made him much happier.

Nonetheless, he still had a meltdown, crying from the stimulus of the day. Sounds especially seem to bother him, upsetting him when there are too many unusual ones. Which is exactly what he had there. So, while successful, it was also rather intense for him, leaving him tired, weepy, and ready to go home.

It was a success! But a mixed one, of course. For every good thing, there was a bit of a hard thing or an upsetting thing. I’m glad we went finally, for the first time in my life. But it would not be something to repeat.

Instead, we’ll see where things go from here. I’ve decided I get a chance to redo and start from scratch. It’s a different sort of scratch from the last time I did this; I didn’t have a child then. But it is a start nonetheless. Coming to this realization and accepting it has been cathartic and has filled me with hope. Will it be easy? Certainly not. Will I be angry and furious, at both myself and my situation? Most definitely. But we don’t often get a chance for a restart and I intend to make the most of it.