The Prez

On Wednesday I woke up to read in the paper about what Michelle Obama wore when she arrived at Standsted Airport in London. Then on my short walk to work, I was surprised that there were not a lot of people walking about. Instead the streets were full of police. This makes sense since New Scotland Yard is just down the street, but the added protections were for the protests and the fact that President Obama was in the neighborhood visiting the prime minister at 10 Downing Street.

At work I was able to watch the live news conference with Obama and Gordon Brown. We also watched coverage on the protests, and I had yet another, "Wow, I am really a small town Iowa girl" moment because I could have sat in front of the television for hours watching the G20 protests and news unfold.

"Ohh... dear! Oh, my... Oh DEAR!" I kept on saying. Part of me just couldn't believe I was in the same city as what was going on.

After work that day I went on a nice run through the area and went by Buckingham Palace to see the media and spectators lined up to witness Obama enter and exit the palace for tea with the Queen.

I ran back to Vandon, met up with a few friends, and then we headed back to the palace where we sat and watched the scene unfold.

There were police and security people everywhere, and I took many pictures of the snipers on top of the palace. (This was my first time seeing snipers!)

We waited... and waited some more, watching important, fancy vehicles leaving the palace gates. And then... it came... THE BEAST, aka Obama's limo.

We had climbed up to sit on a high railing, so we took pictures from there and then quick had to jump down to get close to the street to see the vehicle drive by. I was scared to jump, so I may or may not have stood there for a couple seconds thinking, "I don't want to jump. I don't want to jump. I really want to see him. I don't want to jump."

I jumped.

And then I waved to our president from about 15 feet away.

Thank you, London, for giving me a little piece of home.