Saturday, May 30, 2015

30 May 15: 4 weeks down, 98,475 to go!

Happy Saturday, everybody! In an effort to keep up with my own life via blog, I'm gonna write short posts as frequently as I can. Here's a recap of this week:

I had my first vet school exams this week. Number one, microanatomy (the microscopic study of tissues and cells) was on Monday. I studied all weekend, walked in feeling prepared and it payed off-got an A! The post-good grade high lasted about 30 seconds before the Gross-Anatomy-is-sucking-my-soul fog set in. This was the feeling for most of the week:


Despite only being in school for three weeks, the gross anatomy exam covered a ridiculous amount of material. Did you know that the dog has about 33 muscles in it's front leg? I do. Not only was I responsible for IDing all the muscles, but I had to know their origins/insertions, actions, related tendons, bursas, ligaments, bones, and clinically relevant information. Let's not stop at dogs though! Why not throw in horse and cow legs to spice things up? Top off that nervous breakdown sundae with some xrays and you've got one helluva week. I took the test at 7:50 yesterday morning and came out of it feeling confident that I at least passed. Drained of all my brainpower/will to live, I napped for four hours and slept through my afternoon classes. :)

In a moment of stress-induced brilliance, I realized that I could move my desk right on up to my bed, allowing me to wake up and get right to studying. Why waste time moving to a chair? This happened:


I got a little crazy with the scalpel this week and sustained my first vet school injury:
Scalpel cut to my thumb knuckle crack = ouch.

The most remarkable thing that happened this week wasn't almost cutting off my own thumb or getting elected Vice-President of the Surgery Club (Nobody else ran for the position! YAY!!!!), it was this:
What you see here is a ballpoint pen that has run out of ink. This was my favorite pen. I started using this pen on Monday and I managed to run it out of ink by Friday night. What is so remarkable about a dead pen? DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH WRITING IT TAKES TO USE ALL THE INK IN A BALLPOINT PEN? Needless to say, my hand has permanently molded into a pen-holding claw. Bandaid and all.

Guess what?? I can receive packages here! They are almost guaranteed to arrive, it costs about $100 less than sending a package to Africa, and they get here in a week! If you feel inclined, here's the address:

If it's hard to see in the pic:

Sarah Stewart
Ross University
PO Box 334
Basseterre, St Kitts, West Indies

(Sending USPS is the best. If you send FedEx, leave off the PO BOX. Everything should be out of the original boxes or I'll have to pay customs taxes.)

If you feel like sending me a long, nosy letter, I'd love to have something to read that isn't a textbook. You can send it to the same address and I'll write you back! Letters, cards, bills, whatever!

Conclusion: This week was hard. Really hard. I won't get my anatomy grade until next week but I have a feeling that it's an A. The stress of vet school is worth it when I see my hard work pay off in the form of grades that I can be proud of. I might complain a lot (the first thing out of my mouth when I wake up is a string of cuss words) but I'm doing well. I live in paradise. I'm finally learning all of the things I've always wanted to know. Everything I've done in my life has led up to this point and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. 

Stay tuned for scenes from next week's episode: two more exams, a beach trip (FINALLY), and tickling cows on Monday at "Bovine Safety, Handling, and Restraint" class. :)



Saturday, May 23, 2015

23 May 2015: Sarah's 3% an animal doctor!

After this week, I'm 3% a doctor.
I'm gonna have to keep this short and sweet because I've got...umm...16 hours of studying that needs to be done today. I thought I'd give y'all an idea of what I'm doing now!
This is where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Caribbean Sea.
 Gorgeous

















If you're new to my life, I'm in school now to become a Veterinarian. I live on the tiny island of St. Kitts & Nevis (Nevis is the sister island) in a dorm (for now.). The school is Ross University, an awesome AVMA-accredited veterinary medical school. IT'S REALLY HOT HERE. So hot. I keep a thin layer of sweat all day, which becomes a thin layer of dog cadaver smell after I spend 2-4 hours in the anatomy lab. I have 7 classes, including gross anatomy, histology, infectious disease, and physiology, and they are thoroughly kicking my butt.

This is where I eat my lunch (when I'm not spending lunch in a meeting or seminar.)
Isn't it gorgeous??

Some cool stuff:
The school has a "toxic plant garden" to help students recognize dangerous plants in toxicology class.
How cool is this? My friend said "I hear the restaurant there makes a killer salad!" Bahahaha
I've joined the surgery club and I'm running for vice-president/fundraising chair. We have some exciting things planned for the semester including an anastamosis training (how to sew up intenstines!)

I've also joined the Zoos Exotics Wildlife (ZEW) club. I'm not sure exactly what I want to do career-wise so I'm trying to get all the experience I can. I'm going to a training today at noon to learn how to take care of the turtles that live in our turtle pond. I volunteered to feed them for a week in June. When I walk up to the pond, the turtles swim right up to greet me expecting a snack. This club plans that greatest things and I signed up for all of them: Ecotour to see Leatherback sea turtles, monkey dissection, Wildlife Rehabilitation Certification, and...get this...a dolphin physical exam! During breaks, I'll have the opportunity to go on externships to the Belize Zoo and/or to South Africa to work with wildlife vets.

I've already arranged for housing beginning next semester (August.) For the next year, I'm going to live at the Mariott Residences. The apartments are clean and fully-furnished. The most amazing perk is that I get full use of all the Mariott Resort facilities: three pools, private beach, gym, and spa!! Go ahead and book your ticket to come visit me.

Fancy dancy! That couch folds out into a bed...hint hint.

One of three pools!

Moving to St. Kitts and starting all over again has been...exciting, stressful, exhausting, thrilling,etc. I was in orientation for a week when I first arrived on the island, which allowed me to make some new friends. I now have about 6 girls that have become my support system. We study together, complain together, talk about our meltdowns together, and go to the beach together (about once a month when we give ourselves permission not to study for a whole afternoon.) Being in a new place with new people forces you to examine your character, something I've been doing for years now. I was looking for a document this week and stumbled upon this picture below...

Let me tell you a story.

About a year ago, I agreed to participate in a Girls Leading Our World Camp. I signed up to talk about puberty, teen pregnancy, STIs, and other unpleasantries. Did you know that menstruation is the number one reason that girls miss school in Africa? Sometimes they don't have the supplies they need. Often they are too embarrassed and ashamed to go to school when they're on their period. Thus, Mighty Maxine was born.

Mighty Maxine is a character I created for the camp. She proudly wears an "M" on her shirt because she is not ashamed of her body! She is always prepared with her tool belt of tampons, pads, birth control pills, and male and female condoms. She teaches girls that they are in control of their lives and that being on your period is nothing to be embarrassed about. As you can imagine, Mighty Maxine was well-received. After the camp, we asked the girls what they had learned. Because many of them spoke little English, we had to do a post-test to determine our efficacy as educators. The girls said "I don't have to be ashamed! I can menstruate with pride!" They GOT it!
Mighty Maxine is always prepared. Look at that sweet tool belt!
Me and Ashley showing off our dance moves.
Moral of the story: It's been 7 months since I left Africa and I'm finally in a place to be able to reflect on my Peace Corps experience in a positive way. I can be kind to myself about the things that I did and did not accomplish there and about my own personal attributes. Having up and moved a second time and made another group of friends, I am learning to accept that I'm always going to be the eccentric, “crazy” person that I am. I'd love to be a quiet, sensitive woman but that just isn't me. Some days I feel like I must be the most annoying, loud, inappropriate human in the world (we all feel insecure sometimes right?) but then I see pictures like this, think about the young people I taught in Botswana and how effective I was at teaching kids as my plain ol’ “crazy” self. I think I’ll keep me.
My people!!!

Stay tuned for more stories of the life and times of a vet in training! This picture, I just love it. It reminds me of my life. You can't tell where the tracks are going but you know it's gonna be beautiful and wild! :)


Monday, March 9, 2015

8 Mar 15: Sarah comes home, toots a lot, and prepares to move to the Caribbean!

Happy Daylight Savings, everybody! I woke up this morning at a late 9:35 scolding myself for being so lazy. Then I remembered that I gave up an hour of my life for the sake of late sunsets and the instant relief of everyone's Seasonal Affective Disorder and I felt ok again. This blog post is going to be boring at first, then I'm going to ask for your Christmas cash, and then it gets good. Just bear with me.
Hot showers and indoor climate control doing me right!

I've been in America for almost 5 months now. Can you believe it? Transitioning has been an emotional carpet ride (think ups and downs, but mostly smooth, comfortable sailing.) While I don't think I'll ever fully reintegrate into American culture, I've gotten used to my life here. At first I lived with my best friend, Amber, and her gracious parents who had prepared a comfortable room for me. I got and lost a boyfriend, moved into my own apartment, worked at Williams Sonoma over Christmas, re-certified as a lifeguard, trained to be a swim lessons instructor, and enrolled in Biochemistry.

THE BEST NEWS: After all the stress and strife of applying to veterinary school from my teeny weeny village in Africa, I GOT IN!! Ross University, an American Veterinary Medical Association-Accredited school in the Caribbean, accepted me to start in September. I settled in, got comfy, and began planning for spring and summer in the US. I'd work and save up money to buy all of the many things I'd need to take with me to learn to be an animal doctor. Then I got an email from the vet school:

"Hey, Sarah. Don't you want to start school early? Start in May and we'll give you a $5000 grant! We'll even proctor your Biochemistry final!"

Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit! How could I turn down an offer like that? I called my advisor, moved my matriculation date to May, and then it hit me. I'd be leaving America on April 24th. That's a short 7 weeks away. OH MY GOD I'M POOR HOW AM I GOING TO PAY FOR ALL THIS STUFF? I HAVEN'T APPLIED FOR LOANS YET. I NEED VACCINE TITERS AND A POLICE CLEARANCE LETTER FOR MY VISA. I HAVE TO GET A NEW PASSPORT OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD.

I'm moving to St. Kitts and Nevis!!

I got a bill on Tuesday for the first two trimesters (Ross operates on 3 semesters a year.) I hope you're sitting down:
In case you can't see it, it reads Total: First Born Child.

After pooping myself a little bit, I resigned myself to a lifetime of debt and applied for student loans. Having had a week and a half off of school and my swim lessons cancelled for snow, and taking Biochemistry three days per week, I have made very little money the past few months. The list of supplies I need for vet school grows everyday as I read posts on the school's facebook group. Don't forget to bring coveralls and rubber boots to wear in the barn. Don't forget to bring an extra box of scalpel blades for the dog dissection. Make sure you bring a laptop with an extra charger. The money included in the student loans for "supplies" isn't available until a week after I arrive at school, which doesn't help at all. I wish I could be more excited that my dream is coming true but all I can think about it showing up in St. Kitts in my winter coat because I couldn't afford to buy any appropriate clothing.

So here I am again asking my friends and family for help. My animal angel friends and even people I had never met came together to raise $1500 when I was trying to send an abused village dog to America. I'm happy to report that Kali (formerly known as Sandy) lives in New England and is being spoiled rotten by an awesome couple I served with in Africa. I've made a gofundme for myself (even though asking for donations for myself makes me feel incredibly uneasy) because it is the only way I'm going to be able to continue my path, my destiny, to help animals. You can copy/paste the address below and donate $5, or share on Facebook, or send me good thoughts. I'll take any and every positive vibe!

http://www.gofundme.com/oa9yks

This beautiful dog was abused and neglected for years before I found her.
Because of your generous donations, she is now a happy,
healthy, spoiled rotten New Englander!
Now that that's out of the way, I thought I'd round off the blog with some things that I've noticed since I came home.

-Not eating wheat for the last year and a half + binging on mac n' cheese just because I can = TOOTING BEYOND BELIEF. Sometimes I surprise myself with how much I toot now. In Africa, I worried about pooping myself so I never trusted a fart. But here, with very little threat of water-borne illness, I let 'em rip. If tooting is wrong then I don't wanna be right.

-I love to be in bed on a real mattress. Eating cereal in bed. Playing candy crush in bed. Just wallowing around in the sheets. I bought 4 pillows and I perch on them all evening like a queen on her throne. I might never own a couch again because laying on a mattress is the epitome of comfort.

It's 4 pm? Time to get in the bed!

-I love my bed so much that I don't like to share it. I found out that I hate sleeping in the bed with a man. I don't know if I feel possessive over the pillows or I just want to have all the room to stretch out or I need to fart constantly and I can't because there's a man in my bed (see the first point) but I hate it. For two years, I fantasized about having a beautiful, tall lumberjack in my boudoir and now I'm like "Um. Can you sleep on the couch? Or go home?" Forever alone.

My future.

-Speaking of marrying myself, I went on about 10 dates in January/February. Epic fail after epic fail. The dating world is a cesspool of crazy, dysfunctional, weirdos. Case in point: I went on a date with a guy. We ate wings. The following weekend I went to Starbucks with a male friend. The guy I went on the ONE date with found out and showed up at my house yelling at me like this: "HOW AM I GOING TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND FOR THE NEXT SIX MONTHS IF YOU'RE DATING OTHER PEOPLE??? YOU HAVE NO EMOTIONS! WHY WON'T YOU TRUST ME AND LET ME IN?'' I told him that I wasn't interested in being the first lady of crazytown and showed him the door. I want to take a lover who looks at me like maybe I'm magic because I'm awesome, not because he is hallucinating.

Yep. That pretty much sums it up.

-When I moved to Africa, I was fat by American standards. In Africa, I was perfect. Big tatas, big hips, big booty, most beautiful woman alive. Naturally, it shocked the hell out of me to come home and find out that I was still perfect. I don't know when "curvy" became the new ideal of beauty, but I ain't complaining! Amen and hallelujah to whomever decided that women look good with hips! I've never had so much attention from white men in my life.

Well, I think that's enough nonsense for one post. If you're still reading this after two and half years, I thank you. My blog has had 10,000 views thanks to the faithful readership of my family and friends. I'm not exactly sure what the next 4 years are going to be like but I do know that I'm doing what I am meant to do. Without the constant support of my people (you) reassuring me that I'd get into school, reading draft after draft of personal statements for applications, donating to my causes, sending me kind words and thoughts when I was stressed out about this donkey or that chicken, I wouldn't be watching my dream unfold right now. Thank you!!

Me and my best friend from Africa, Bobby.

<3
Sarah

PS- I'm cheap. This week I spent a snow day making a rug for my dorm room!
Repurposed from an old sweater, torn nightgown, and a towel!








Saturday, September 13, 2014

12 Sept 14: A 12 Step Guide to Caring for Your New RPCV

In honor of the two-year anniversary of serving my country in Africa, I've written the following humorous, yet dead serious guide to dealing with me when I come home in 36 days. :)
Only 36 days til pastries and cappuccino!
Disclaimer: I'm writing this based on my experience. If you're a PCV and this doesn't reflect on how you feel, I don't care. If you've not developed antisocial tendencies or parasites and this blog doesn't apply to you, well...aren't you lucky?

A 12 Step Guide to Caring for Your New RPCV

Congratulations on receiving your newborn RPCV, or Returned Peace Corps Volunteer! Your RPCV is a rare specimen, having earned their status with blood (and intestinal worms), the sweat of two miserable Kalahari summers, and enough tears to fill up a swimming pool (wait, what's a swimming pool?) "RPCV" is a badge of honor that your Volunteer will wear for the rest of their life. Please use this guide to care for your RPCV as they transition from their old, dirty life into their shiny, new one.
Ooooh America!
1. Your RPCV is going to be weird. Really weird. They've lived in extreme isolation for two years, often going weeks without having a conversation beyond superficial greetings with another human being. You might have to dig to get them to talk about themselves. At site, RPCVs don't talk about themselves unless they're in the company of other Americans. Most villagers lack the English vocabulary to have a deep conversation about feelings. And after getting enough "You don't have any problems. You're an American. You're rich. AND you're white." they stop trying.


2. Keep in the mind that your RPCV will have no idea what has happened with American politics or pop culture for the last two years. If you talk about current events, they will be lost. If you find yourself saying "Have you seen...Have you heard the new...?" you can stop. The answer is no, they have not seen/heard anything that has happened since 2012. Most likely, their contribution to the conversation will be limited to "One time in Botswana...In Botswana, I..." Your RPCV doesn't mean to be boring but hand washing clothes and picking thorns out of their feet are all that they've known for two years. They didn't have tv. They didn't have internet. When they had wifi, they spent most of their time trying to update blogs, return emails, apply for grad school, and file PC reports. Miley Cyrus' latest antics were not a priority.
Peace Corps Volunteers celebrate major holidays by making forefather beards from pillow stuffing.
3. RPCVs live in limbo (especially at first), a confusing place between being American and...something else. Somewhere between hipster and hobo. They're citizens of the US but also of the world. They've known what it's like to live without and they no longer need "stuff" to be happy, which makes them extraordinarily unsuited to life in America, not to mention hard to buy for. Because of the things they have done and the things they have seen, they are extremely sensitive. Not delicate. Sensitive. Please guard their feelings and be careful with your words. Understand that their awkwardness is not intentional, their reluctance to talk is not personal, they're just..new.

4. Waste hurts your RPCV. A lot. Complaining irritates them. Hasty generalizations about Africans will definitely piss them off. Needing a lot of alone time does not mean that they aren't happy to see you, it just means that they aren't used to constant social stimulation.
Waste not :)
5. Prepare a space for your RPCV to stash junk. RPCV's are hoarders because you never know when you're gonna need to make a toilet paper roll flower bouquet. Or when you're gonna need that two inch scrap of wire to fix a chair. They are the world's most resourceful people.

6. Your RPCV might pee in the toilet and forget to flush. For two years, their philosophy has been "if it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down." Gently remind your RPCV that in America, we flush every time. Old habits die hard.
"What do I do with this pee?"
7. Under no circumstances should you ever comment on the physical appearance of your RPCV beyond "You look great!" Contrary to what most people think, your RPCV did not have diarrhea for two years straight. Their diet likely consisted of carbs, carbs, and more carbs. Volunteers do their best not to sink into an abyss of depression and comfort eating is part of that strategy. Suppress your urge to blurt out "Wow! I didn't think you'd GAIN weight in Africa!"
Peace Corps Volunteers don't know what looks good but that's ok!
8. If your RPCV seems lazy, they're not. RPCVs become accustomed to a slower pace of life, often going whole days without "accomplishing" anything. This is normal. Eventually your RPCV will find a hobby and get a job like a good little American.

9. Your new RPCV may be a complete stranger to you. Chances are the remarkable experiences that they've had have changed them, mostly for the better. They may have different interests than they had before they left. Resist the tempation to compare your old friend to your new RPCV. The last thing an RPCV wants to do is have to explain/defend why he or she no longer enjoys hot tubs (too hot!) and fast food (their GI tracts become maladjusted to digesting that much grease in one sitting.)

10. Your RPCV may have sleeping habits which you find bizarre. If you keep in mind that Peace Corps Volunteers rise and set with the sun, you won't be alarmed when your RPCV goes to bed at 8 p.m. Try keeping them up with kettlecorn and the latest season of Orange Is the New Black, but bear in mind that RPCVs need their 10 hours of sleep, and probably a mid-day nap too.
Your RPCV might hang dry their clothes in the hotel bathroom.
11. Your RPCV may say inappropriate things at inappropriate times. Pooping in a bucket for two years can cause a loss of shame on the part of your RPCV, thus making any bodily function fair game for casual conversation. When they discuss their bowel habits at the dinner table, don't be offended. Most likely, they're not used to eating at a table. Meal time is simply another opportunity to ruminate over the Bristol Stool Chart with the people they love.

12. Most importantly, keep in mind that no matter how hard you try, you can NEVER understand what you're RPCV has been through. Two years of chronic stress and not having their basic needs met has been hard on your RPCV. They have given of themselves everyday for 800 days. There may not be much left to give. They may have a meltdown in the cereal aisle at Walmart because they have become unaccustomed to making so many choices at one time. Be supportive and gentle but don't say things like "I know how you feel" or "It's just cereal! It's not a big deal!" Encourage your RPCV to attend events and socialize within your city's RPCV community. A good head rub also helps.

All shiny and new!
If you follow this basic guide, accept the fact that your new RPCV is NOT the same person they were before they joined the Peace Corps, feed them lots of protein and drip coffee, and encourage their sense of wanderlust, you will help ease the transition from hairy, dirty Peace Corps Volunteer to happy, well-adjusted RPCV.


Saturday, July 26, 2014

July 2014: Sarah hitch hikes across the country with a sick dog and marries her off.

Meet Sandy! Sandy-the world. The world-Sandy.
Sandy, when she first started coming over.
Sandy's story is a compelling tale of miracles and human kindness. I came upon Sandy when I was trying to revive a puppy that belonged to one of the teachers at my school. The puppy was Sandy's, the last living puppy of her litter. Like most dogs in Botswana both Sandy and her puppy had been neglected. Unfortunately, the puppy died of "tick fever."

Having realized I was a friend, Sandy started visiting me at my house. The nutrient demands of lactation combined with the fact that her owner didn't feed her had left Sandy emaciated and frail. I couldn't help but give her my leftovers, which she gobbled down without complaint. Eventually, I started cooking for her: lentils, meat, spam. She loved it all. After a month, Sandy abandoned her owner and moved into my yard!

By this time, I had started hitch hiking to the next village over to buy her real dog food. She was gaining weight and had enough energy to play with the other neighborhood dogs! One morning I woke up and Sandy's insides were hanging out. I had no idea what was wrong. A prolapsed uterus maybe? Was her uterus just going to fall out of her body at any time? In a panic, I packed up my tent, some clothes and Sandy's belongings, and with Sandy in my arms, I headed to the village hitch hiking spot. 10 hours later a very nice truck driver dropped Sandy and I in Gaborone, where an emergency veterinarian picked us up.

Sandy ALWAYS finds the most comfortable spot in the house.
Dr. Mike diagnosed Sandy with a venereal tumor, something he had seen hundreds of times in Botswana. He was confident that it would resolve with four weekly doses of chemotherapy administered IV (given by me.) Sandy stayed overnight in the hospital and I stayed with a friend-of-a-friend who took me in, sight unseen. The next morning, I picked up Sandy and we made the tiring 8 hour trip back to the village. The animal angel who housed me, a lovely lady named Sheilagh, generously offered to pay for Sandy's chemo treatment.
After taking her ALL the way to the capital, I decided that the time had come for Sandy to become an inside dog. I told her original owner that because I was taking care of her, paying for her treatment, etc. that she belonged to me now. Bottom line: she's mine. I bathed Sandy to remove any ticks I hadn't picked off and she became my new snuggle buddy. I walked her three times a day and she quickly adjusted to indoor life. 

When the time came to administer her chemo, I was confident that I could do it. I'd worked in many vet clinics, had drawn blood, and assisted in surgery. I was confused. Apparently dogs don't enjoy being stuck with needles and Sandy, though extraspecial, was no different. I enlisted the help of some very nice nurses from the local hospital (one a nurse anesthesiologist) but we failed to give her chemo. I came to the realization that Sandy needed a kind of care that I couldn't give her in the bush. She couldn't be cured by my love alone.

After a MAJOR FREAKOUT, Sandy and I hitch hiked again to the capital city. Seana, a Peace Corps Botswana staff member, took her in, offering to take her to her chemo appointments, have her spayed, and then vaccinate her. Talk about an Animal Angel. I said a sad "good bye" to Sandy knowing that she was in the best of hands. Sandy re-started her chemo and quickly became a best-friend to Seana's gardener, Thory. Thory allowed Sandy to sleep on his couch and hand-fed her chicken when she was sick after chemo. This is HIGHLY UNUSUAL for someone in Botswana, as they typically don't even let dogs inside the house. Thory is another special miracle that entered Sandy's story at just the right time.

Thory hand-feeding Sandy after her chemo appointment.
Sandy quickly adjusted to her new life with Seana and Thory. She was spoiled rotten with the best treats, toys, and her very own bed! Sandy finished her chemo, was spayed, and vaccinated!
Sandy loves clowning around!
When Seana had to go out of town, a PCV named Christina volunteered to house sit for her. Christina has a giant horse dog, Pula, who became fast friends with Sandy. Sandy now lives with Christina and Pula in a large house in Gaborone. Thanks to the kindness of all of the angels who have helped her, Sandy is FULLY RECOVERED! Her tumor is gone, she is healthy, and she is enjoying her new life with her best friend.
Sandy looks good!
Last week, me and some other volunteers decided that Sandy and Pula's romance needed to become official. We held Botswana's first dog wedding at Christina's house, complete with wedding outfits and a dog-friendly cake. 

The bride, groom, and the rest of the wedding party.
Pula, Meera (bridesmaid), and Sandy pose for wedding pictures.
The wedding "cake"

Despite everything she's been through, Sandy still has a smile on her face!
Lisa and Christina serving up the wedding cake!

The blushing bride.
The happy, exhausted couple!
Nothing better than a belly rub.
Me with Pula.
So what lies ahead for Sandy? Sandy loves her life with Christina and Pula but eventually she needs a forever home. If left in Botswana, Sandy will likely end up being the victim of another negligent, abusive owner. Sandy needs to go to the good ol' US of A! There are several people who are interested in adopting Sandy but it costs $1500 to send a dog from Botswana to America. And Sandy just refuses to get a job. I have created a gofundme page for her cause. Through the kindness of strangers, most of whom don't even know me or Sandy, we have raised $975! I have set the goal at $1500, an increase since I first listed the page, to accommodate all of the expenses that go into flying a dog home. The fundraising ends on September 1st (to allow me time to get the money to the person responsible for sending her to the US.) If you would like to contribute to her cause (and she'd be eternally grateful) please click on the link below. Every dollar counts!!

http://www.gofundme.com/ag907g

Sandy, miracle dog.
For those of you who have donated, we thank your from the bottom of our hearts. Sandy is truly a four-legged miracle!


Friday, January 10, 2014

NYE 2014: Some thoughts...

2014 starts in an hour. I can't wait. I love New Years. Not because of the parties and the booze and the kissing at midnight. Because on New Years day you can wake up and be that person that you wanted to be the year before but for some reason you couldn't quite manage. For most people, New Years is an exciting time, overflowing with the promise of positive change. We make resolutions to lose weight, take more time for ourselves, hone some virtue that we lack, etc. New Years is a catalyst. It's also an excuse. An excuse to postpone until later the hard work that we perceive would lead to happiness. A pass to procrastinate. How many years in a row have I told myself, "If I lost 5 pounds, I'd look so much better in my Christmas photos. Oh well, I'll join a gym after New Years." And then after my New Years resolutions fail, I give up until the next year. "Well, it's March and I haven't done anything. Guess I'll have to wait until next year."

We don't realize that every single day holds the potential of new beginnings. We just have to make the choice that tomorrow is going to be the day that we shed the habits that no longer serve us and start fresh. We don't need to wait around for a 1 in 365 day to do it. We are our own catalysts. So instead of making New Years Resolutions, let's make All Year Resolutions. And when we feel like we've made so much progress in our personal development and then we suffer through a week with our in-laws, leaving us feeling like we've taken two steps back, let's remind ourselves that everyday can be New Years Day.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

January 2014: ALL ANIMALS and plants! Woohooo!

It's been a long time coming. A blog post of nothing but the animals and plants that I love. The animals include my chicken flock (look for an update on Ruby's babies!), goats- Jethrow and her baby, Elmer, and some random donkeys. The plants are the most recent pictures of the herb jungle that has become my garden!

Look through these pictures for a special announcement at the end! Those of you who know me well probably won't be surprised...
Ruby's babies!
Ruby's babies as teenagers!!! There are 5 of them there enjoying a family dust bath.
Wanda, best friend to Millie.
Just a typical evening in the Stewart yard. Jethrow, Elmer, and the gang.
Jimmy, Ruby, and Wanda.
Wynona. Look at that fancy hairdo!
Creepiest chicken family photo ever.
Look at this big boy! Ricky Stewart.
Timmy Stewart, most recent patient in the Millie M. Stewart Rehabilitation Yard. When I came home from Zambia
her foot was all tangled up in wire. She was hiding behind my gas tank, unable to walk or hunt for food. I cut her free, cleaned her wounds, and hand fed her until she could walk. Now she's completely recovered except for one of her toes.
It turned black from lack of circulation and I think it's gonna fall off. But she doesn't seem to mind!
Elmer loves world puzzles...eating them.
Timmy. You can see her little black toe.
Timmy and Francesca.
Green peppers that don't look like green peppers.
Sage
Salad fixin's
Herbs n' green peppers
Basil gone wild!
Basil, fennel, and sage
Baby bell peppers!!!
Oh hai, donk!
The official announcement...drum roll please...I've decided that after Peace Corps, God willin and the creek don't rise, I'm going to VET SCHOOL!