tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4902803760508922512024-03-05T16:28:40.713-07:00For The Love Of...Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-57089025091268806542014-04-11T06:47:00.000-06:002014-04-11T11:44:31.558-06:00The Lambing Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFUiMLAmrHr4J7c_tBQk2GtmJuyqjfQPRrTwGcAZkDuExMYSkhoe36ANgI3Ew4-EeVRu-HC6vHUGYRC_6ZqOQWh2tbh7hJIrxZiMRqZuHKSGFL0nk8zrnXFhgtxOX8fP9EAAymWN_fGI/s1600/sheep+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFUiMLAmrHr4J7c_tBQk2GtmJuyqjfQPRrTwGcAZkDuExMYSkhoe36ANgI3Ew4-EeVRu-HC6vHUGYRC_6ZqOQWh2tbh7hJIrxZiMRqZuHKSGFL0nk8zrnXFhgtxOX8fP9EAAymWN_fGI/s1600/sheep+3.jpg" height="156" width="640" /></a></div>
As a veterinary student attending Glasgow University, we are required to complete at least two weeks of lambing in the first two years of our program. In the United Kingdom, sheep dot the hillside and are a major form of livestock.<br />
<br />
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHP6wq8-4oM-D_PyQVIqWpqBEZ7R1y5ugG7y0_8eWbD83XiwnNnylVI2gv4j5C0cBVOkN8zoJtVOG15d7E2Rqp2ItylN6kjlRZNgX_RdNZLjLezf5tuNS-FIviqLawzUlVPOtkbj-XYOM/s1600/sheep+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHP6wq8-4oM-D_PyQVIqWpqBEZ7R1y5ugG7y0_8eWbD83XiwnNnylVI2gv4j5C0cBVOkN8zoJtVOG15d7E2Rqp2ItylN6kjlRZNgX_RdNZLjLezf5tuNS-FIviqLawzUlVPOtkbj-XYOM/s1600/sheep+7.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>My experience with lambing took place in Wales, at a farm outside of a small town called Knighton with the lovely Lewis family. I had spent countless hours preparing myself for my experience: buying waterproofs, coveralls, wellies, planning the train ride, watching lambing videos for all situations, familiarizing myself with sheep breeds, and much more. My preparation had me excited for the experience ahead but little did I know that I would love it as much as I did. <br />
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
The Lewis family farm was spread out the Welsh countryside, in the most picturesque way. Two family homes (one for the grandparents and one for the farmer, his wife and children) are nestled into the hillside, overlooking the spring that runs through the property. The infamous sheep shed is a two minute casual stroll away and within earshot of the nearly 1000 bleeting ewes and lambs (don't be fooled, there was more than 1000 ewes at their giant farm... think 2500+ ewes (thankfully not all of them lamb at the same time), 300+ beef cattle, 10 resident chickens and 3 dogs). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwse-ePY0hasqnJx1OAXJNDXaF5TBS9fVRtFi32RP3iRn9pUOOBVrj7iVrtJB-6MnkUbVVyfTN6kHl-bb_kTVdYGdgsB1-RJSQXmr8JPUx9GBs5zsC9zO34AbIcRQfJ7gI-dvpxjauA1M/s1600/sheep+16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwse-ePY0hasqnJx1OAXJNDXaF5TBS9fVRtFi32RP3iRn9pUOOBVrj7iVrtJB-6MnkUbVVyfTN6kHl-bb_kTVdYGdgsB1-RJSQXmr8JPUx9GBs5zsC9zO34AbIcRQfJ7gI-dvpxjauA1M/s1600/sheep+16.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>I won't drown you in the details of what I did everyday for two weeks but I will give you the shortish version. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
My day began at the shed at 7-7:30 in the morning. I would do a quick run around the shed to familiarize myself with who was lambing, who had already lambed, and who was sickly. We would then pen everything that had a lamb in a private pen so that their wee ones would not be stolen by the other overly motherly ewes or trampled and then dip the navels of the lambs and give then an anti-scour oral liquid. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Once we had a handle on the madness that would begin every morning, we would have to go around and feed the pregnant sheep. The large pens housing the ewes yet to lamb would all get fresh hay and cake (concentrated pellet formula) and the individual pens would get a separate allotment of cake, water and hay. This was probably my least favourite part of the day and for no reason other than I realized how stupid sheep really are. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7GT33Zfk9uTJt3JJNR_WUqLTLxIVi5QXa68esFsz9Ou_zyk6RxPDB01SCCPNqm5rzYF8YtUJTf1_qsY6tZBFT1zU6kOssGOhO0kJvssQxGYfps6ex07PRxcYe-3YRi0qvLsHu7iKGIRA/s1600/sheep+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7GT33Zfk9uTJt3JJNR_WUqLTLxIVi5QXa68esFsz9Ou_zyk6RxPDB01SCCPNqm5rzYF8YtUJTf1_qsY6tZBFT1zU6kOssGOhO0kJvssQxGYfps6ex07PRxcYe-3YRi0qvLsHu7iKGIRA/s1600/sheep+12.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>Let's be honest for a moment. Everyone loves cake. I love cake, you love cake, dogs love cake (even though they shouldn't even know what cake is) and the pellets called cake drive sheep wild. Sheep will usually run away from you even if you look at them but if you rustle the bucket with cake in it, then you just became a ewe's best friend. Better yet, the sheep have been conditioned to get excited whenever they hear a quad because the quad delivers the cake. As a result, every time there was the sound of a quad, no matter how distant it was, the bleeting of sheep was so loud, you had to scream at the person next to you for them to hear you.... forget yelling across the shed to get your point across. This love of cake was also likely the cause of my current knee issues... In the evening, only the private pens get cake but it requires an individual to walk through the throng of ewes to get to the pens and the ewes yet to lamb are hell-bent on getting to the cake and will stop at nothing to get there, even if it means running with their thick skulls through knees. I obviously never learned to dodge their attack or else I would not have this issue. </div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfw1DSc6ee6H2Yrsu3bmDaTCzl4N7_ttbKTEmw5Z232dOB5vuZKeJN5xo7deyBwYFtS044z3asYaC_HsyYgjJb8QkTya-CU7CUe2uBM2cq11aVvvQo-g1x9jLi2WUj8TypoctiMyZJ0zY/s1600/sheep+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfw1DSc6ee6H2Yrsu3bmDaTCzl4N7_ttbKTEmw5Z232dOB5vuZKeJN5xo7deyBwYFtS044z3asYaC_HsyYgjJb8QkTya-CU7CUe2uBM2cq11aVvvQo-g1x9jLi2WUj8TypoctiMyZJ0zY/s1600/sheep+8.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsYl9P7m5g-B-XwpReUmI11JyXTMXz59imgQupJo5KPAWFHmorr2W4DuN7WEJ5pzYsfeGRbaaYbt3nWr7ahZXveiN1uCYPP-MuLyvBHRji64WRyRXgeOetIAgvSMAosfZSvB7naz5C2CE/s1600/sheep+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsYl9P7m5g-B-XwpReUmI11JyXTMXz59imgQupJo5KPAWFHmorr2W4DuN7WEJ5pzYsfeGRbaaYbt3nWr7ahZXveiN1uCYPP-MuLyvBHRji64WRyRXgeOetIAgvSMAosfZSvB7naz5C2CE/s1600/sheep+5.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
Fun fact (and also a side note to any Lewis family members possibly reading this): My knees are substantially better. I still have a limp, but it gives me serious street credit and I like that. Also not having ewes constantly ramming you knee sideways works wonders on the healing. And drugs. Thank you NHS for the free anti-inflammatories and pain medication.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVjhI6oMJxxRL-WupXu_N4aBp_ZFT1iXZ-Lzi5bjOS7Lf3jjtdPP_YXhgBJGOdZKCydaoKsiNkDH92MkJuJdPt6DuopO9-potm2aaAY5oQaMUAg8XYabKttwAhQXo0stGE2hkgPfEf5Ss/s1600/sheep+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVjhI6oMJxxRL-WupXu_N4aBp_ZFT1iXZ-Lzi5bjOS7Lf3jjtdPP_YXhgBJGOdZKCydaoKsiNkDH92MkJuJdPt6DuopO9-potm2aaAY5oQaMUAg8XYabKttwAhQXo0stGE2hkgPfEf5Ss/s1600/sheep+14.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
<div>
Back on track now. You feed the ewes and then you bottle feed all the orphan lambs and the lambs that have mom's that do not produce enough or any milk. Then it is usually time for break which means cake (for humans) and other delicious baked goods and of course, tea. Post stuffing of the face, you go back to the shed, and usually lime (a disinfectant and moisture absorbent) and litter all the individual and large pens, lamb and pen some more ewes, ring tails and castrate the lambs, and number off the ones ready to go to the field. Then it is time for lunch and baked goods or dinner and dessert, always with tea and then back to the shed. Then you do more of the same from earlier in the morning but also find time to bottle feed everything after lunch and then again before going home at the end of the day while also giving out cake, hay and water to everything again and then you go back for dinner or lunch (whichever you did not have earlier). Depending on how many people were in the shed, how many ewes delivered earlier in the day, and how many skinny babies were kicking around in the shed, we would sometimes go back to lamb some more and bottle feed and finish anything we didn't finish before calling it a night anytime between 6pm and midnight. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKdM-I-pB49tcx9mvPSrTPzeMmhl_bzZ1d9jI34Oy2wHd7NhB_Zte86KpgBVujYLoPRSRzzJZAp_4G2Ya570v2uHXbAY_SmFdzZtsAYcaLo0Jqa5SBRFD30e3jO9g2AMrTuMo6Swvj1Y/s1600/sheep+15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKdM-I-pB49tcx9mvPSrTPzeMmhl_bzZ1d9jI34Oy2wHd7NhB_Zte86KpgBVujYLoPRSRzzJZAp_4G2Ya570v2uHXbAY_SmFdzZtsAYcaLo0Jqa5SBRFD30e3jO9g2AMrTuMo6Swvj1Y/s1600/sheep+15.jpg" height="149" width="200" /></a></div>
Now this was just the day to day basics, but toss in there fixing uterine and rectal prolapses, difficult deliveries, fostering tiddling (orphans), giving injections, running between the shed and the house with the heating lamp and milk supply, milking ewes, building pens, moving ewes around, and much more. And that was only in the sheep shed... not to mention that our wonderful farmer was working with his cattle, visiting the flocks still in the hills that had yet to lamb or were lambing in the hills and managing everything else going on at the farm. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Side note- I am convinced the farmer has a twin that I kept seeing because I still do not understand how one person can do so much in a day</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can honestly say I was exhausted and I didn't even scratch the surface of the lambing life. No matter how exhausted I was though, every minute I spent on that farm was fantastic. I was extremely fortunate to have stumbled across the Lewis family because they welcomed me into their home(s) with open arms, fed me (far too much... not that I am complaining), and gave me the best experience I could have asked for and tolerated me in my crippled condition. I compared notes with my fellow students and I am convinced I was at the best place in the United Kingdom, so excuse my while I do a little happy dance!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If you had asked me before I went lambing if I would do it again nest year, the answer would have been yes because I was convinced I would love it. If you asked me now, the answer would be HELL YES! Why? Let me recap some of my fond memories.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17l9kpCi8SUABR6dhyvV0RPfGHyALVDB3iGidtxvmZ3z5O9yNMguYJ8_UtRQ1Jg6mnZPO4wJfWS2Vz6kOybXiPGibebEjlQ_O599uIWUxHWggVWtZiJSgjRk82Oj55GCfnZj0oVLCIgE/s1600/sheep+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17l9kpCi8SUABR6dhyvV0RPfGHyALVDB3iGidtxvmZ3z5O9yNMguYJ8_UtRQ1Jg6mnZPO4wJfWS2Vz6kOybXiPGibebEjlQ_O599uIWUxHWggVWtZiJSgjRk82Oj55GCfnZj0oVLCIgE/s1600/sheep+9.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidf6BxRYWJGmyzwUEKAmzPBktZwWyQiYB2H9aRzqndXTY-0YzzZ0lkOq_CKyxdnv0Ega_dEioJIhxILYasr1062hJzC9rtGHzlDzrD6jr9v_wmcJpSWXtFWaFCC3R9fLOMGV2j5_WZClI/s1600/sheep+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidf6BxRYWJGmyzwUEKAmzPBktZwWyQiYB2H9aRzqndXTY-0YzzZ0lkOq_CKyxdnv0Ega_dEioJIhxILYasr1062hJzC9rtGHzlDzrD6jr9v_wmcJpSWXtFWaFCC3R9fLOMGV2j5_WZClI/s1600/sheep+1.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
I had an exceptional family. I felt like an actual member of the family which was extremely comforting. I cannot imagine living with a bunch of people who I did not know, not to mention did not like but instead I had a family that made me feel like I was one of their own.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaNRmo5NcGKzt650QcUc-RgK6WdmqwAywURegHjAIGpjH36RN7M1eDN5tmYPchqBJE1Me2QBmJ2uny3-FaybkCXDBUwtdgV0IabMYI_PUNMvZUoWkufVEbWZ8Hja7QWQCYZwXG3AUAf4/s1600/sheep+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSaNRmo5NcGKzt650QcUc-RgK6WdmqwAywURegHjAIGpjH36RN7M1eDN5tmYPchqBJE1Me2QBmJ2uny3-FaybkCXDBUwtdgV0IabMYI_PUNMvZUoWkufVEbWZ8Hja7QWQCYZwXG3AUAf4/s1600/sheep+13.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>I had the best experience I could have asked for. It was picturesque, busy, fun, and just all around awesome. When I went searching for a placement, I was convinced I wanted to go to a small farm with only a couple hundred ewes and I came across this one and went because even through email, the placement sounded wonderful and my host was very receptive and welcoming. The sheer number of ewes meant there was always something to do and that every experience lambing was new and interesting. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<br />
Fun fact- I had my hand in so many uteruses/uteri (what is the plural of uterus?!) that my fingers were hardly every cold and if they were cold, there was usually a ewe that needed some magic fingers all up in there. That was pretty descriptive.... so here is another tidbit that may have too much information... I was usually up to my elbow or further with one hand, and sometimes, had both hands in there. Ouchie.</div>
<div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrIpOP3cGJjqqLEpvTRJBnWSeLBcVoRLX_9i1hD24rZlu6wLXiv4DJkwApvwapm2CpBTghre2dJiI2T_6rl2pWtmJvl0glUT0Lwvu_tTG9Dh5lA2_SStasM-FaAeznTmJqAl4PchQy84/s1600/sheep+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrIpOP3cGJjqqLEpvTRJBnWSeLBcVoRLX_9i1hD24rZlu6wLXiv4DJkwApvwapm2CpBTghre2dJiI2T_6rl2pWtmJvl0glUT0Lwvu_tTG9Dh5lA2_SStasM-FaAeznTmJqAl4PchQy84/s1600/sheep+10.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>I lambed big babies and small babies, one/two/three/four babies, black/speckled/white babies, wooly and bald babies, front feet, back feet, one leg, two leg, three leg, four leg, two heads, tail first, head against sternum, floppy heads, only head, swollen heads, ossified fetlocks, premature babies, malformed babies, rotten and/or dead (sadly) babies, and sick and healthy babies. I used one hand, two hands, ropes, lubricant, and my feet against the ewe for leverage when pulling just was not good enough. I laughed when the lambs that were born were the size of medium breed dog or when they looked more like a dog or rabbit breed than a sheep. I cried when I felt a lamb in the womb suckle my desperate hands for the last time as he drowned in his own mother, when my compressions, resuscitation and desperate efforts to keep a lamb breathing failed and I felt their wee heart beat for the last time, when I finally was able to foster a tiddling off after four failed attempts and two warm baths (to get the afterbirth of the other ewes off) and when I sat next to a ewe who had been torn so badly she needed to be shot in favour of maintaining welfare and not letting her suffer. I felt like a proud mother every time I successfully fostered a lamb onto another mother or just when a ewe would start cleaning her baby right after they were born. I hated the ewes that rejected their own babies or when they crushed their lambs in the middle of the night. I was frustrated whenever a ewe would not follow their lambs when I needed to move them or when I came and found a cold and poorly lamb in the morning. I was desperate every time I saw a hung head, triplet or small baby because I didn't want to lose them and whenever I tried was treating a ewe with calcium deficiency because far too often they just did not make it. I fixed more uterine prolapses than I can count including an entire uterus that turned completely inside out. My heart broke whenever we had a malformed lamb and my heart melted every time a lamb took their first steps, bleeted for their mom the first time, and when the lambs would bounce and skip around when they were let out of their pens. I had several favourite lambs, especially our "puppy" who would sneak out of his pen and follow us around the shed and bleet for the bottle and if paid any attention, he would jump up on you and suckle your chin, ears and nose until he finally realize he should go back and see his mother for milk. I did and saw so much and could not get enough of it. </div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRKdhUxkv5YfnSaxX0N5_cmrCoifpapthX3W4cCHMnF0hTZVNNDmqBOE63n-TEavLy8q3dywUHmlHm-7XgMz1gg_Hdw79wCdhKdBP1Bz244byZ7Sj4T1_VdSrmz7MOVLrxUevCfiJ5CO8/s1600/sheep+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a>
</div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRKdhUxkv5YfnSaxX0N5_cmrCoifpapthX3W4cCHMnF0hTZVNNDmqBOE63n-TEavLy8q3dywUHmlHm-7XgMz1gg_Hdw79wCdhKdBP1Bz244byZ7Sj4T1_VdSrmz7MOVLrxUevCfiJ5CO8/s1600/sheep+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRKdhUxkv5YfnSaxX0N5_cmrCoifpapthX3W4cCHMnF0hTZVNNDmqBOE63n-TEavLy8q3dywUHmlHm-7XgMz1gg_Hdw79wCdhKdBP1Bz244byZ7Sj4T1_VdSrmz7MOVLrxUevCfiJ5CO8/s1600/sheep+11.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
I think I could talk, text and write about my experiences for hours, maybe even days. I do not have enough good things to say about the experience!<br />
<br />
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
To the Lewis family, thank you for everything. You were exceptional. You have a fantastic facility and have an appreciation for your animals like I have never seen in any other farmers and I appreciated your compassion for your animals more than you will ever know. Your farm is beautiful and makes all others that I have seen pale in comparison, and you all were more than I could have ever asked for. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
To the students that will be lambing or are interested in lambing, you will not regret the opportunity and if presented with the chance, GO! You work your buns off, you laugh and (maybe) cry, but it is rewarding, you will experience first hand how difficult it really is and and you get a teaser of what it is like to live a day as a farmer. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVlaIvou5pqdLFFk24Ppdq6M7bE_Q1EBIo5YWK-r8JboI0-wPgusso-Ri90YqTCUubZA_irXsjPR7EaLM6SMzOrRka-lFpQPwm6L58Z0mtmhITPvpI7-gMQwf0g0FU01b-0WbETlYMVg/s1600/sheep+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVlaIvou5pqdLFFk24Ppdq6M7bE_Q1EBIo5YWK-r8JboI0-wPgusso-Ri90YqTCUubZA_irXsjPR7EaLM6SMzOrRka-lFpQPwm6L58Z0mtmhITPvpI7-gMQwf0g0FU01b-0WbETlYMVg/s1600/sheep+4.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPdFUsPg_VTvH0mvjziysB4qSkhlYoiZxt4sJc057-jLhO9n8NSh_rWu29_VYe1o_ZiMAeifCgyljpdWup2aQShaA9mPx340jydxmdBe-O8KZ91XUgXJ-FHT_9uQhwwCO2cSGWAHkYik/s1600/sheep+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLPdFUsPg_VTvH0mvjziysB4qSkhlYoiZxt4sJc057-jLhO9n8NSh_rWu29_VYe1o_ZiMAeifCgyljpdWup2aQShaA9mPx340jydxmdBe-O8KZ91XUgXJ-FHT_9uQhwwCO2cSGWAHkYik/s1600/sheep+2.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfRCGrE_rDveXxejCAZaLCB6Nak-KIac9EtTieGa4wNfuewLfw62HtdZ7Sq3iygtMrAmoPCHHfzDD0oKTDS6LsDPUBl9qXS-YSAz0spF4obxvbuQWcTFcdrOH1W2OKpeHTU8zecXaW7cA/s1600/sheep+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfRCGrE_rDveXxejCAZaLCB6Nak-KIac9EtTieGa4wNfuewLfw62HtdZ7Sq3iygtMrAmoPCHHfzDD0oKTDS6LsDPUBl9qXS-YSAz0spF4obxvbuQWcTFcdrOH1W2OKpeHTU8zecXaW7cA/s1600/sheep+6.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F4.bp.blogspot.com%2F-G_1GCNJ57aE%2FU0gjwKy-PaI%2FAAAAAAAABCg%2F_L1AgIf62Ow%2Fs1600%2Fsheep%2B10.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrIpOP3cGJjqqLEpvTRJBnWSeLBcVoRLX_9i1hD24rZlu6wLXiv4DJkwApvwapm2CpBTghre2dJiI2T_6rl2pWtmJvl0glUT0Lwvu_tTG9Dh5lA2_SStasM-FaAeznTmJqAl4PchQy84/s1600/sheep+10.jpg" -->Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-32678123356670342522014-03-07T05:35:00.001-07:002014-03-07T05:35:28.720-07:00February<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I hadn't even had time to think about what I was going to write here before my subconscious took over my brain and reminded me at how horrible I was at keeping a consistent blog. Does anyone actually read this? No bother, it doesn't matter if you do or not!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIxDkRobB6PcLXNrUI3rb63Mk_cj5fdiHRlrK0cfhxMdOIetpGF7f1GHIGjrNnifGACx03QLaQ5mWkPEWTguC6ZHFZOxTcn-CknIE_3Yvcs8UfmHCIVvC4s1YuW50Q8Un7JqUGLtuwto/s1600/blog+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; clear: right; float: right; line-height: 16.1200008392334px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmIxDkRobB6PcLXNrUI3rb63Mk_cj5fdiHRlrK0cfhxMdOIetpGF7f1GHIGjrNnifGACx03QLaQ5mWkPEWTguC6ZHFZOxTcn-CknIE_3Yvcs8UfmHCIVvC4s1YuW50Q8Un7JqUGLtuwto/s1600/blog+7.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
Anywho, let me tell you all about my life for the past month, or that which I can recall because I am currently being distracted by the rays of sun coming through my window (Scotland isn't all rain and clouds!).</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
February started after my hike in the snow at Loch Lomond. Somewhat discouraged by the fact that the snow was stalking me all the way from Canada, my ever present and knowledgable Big Vet filled me in on the sure-fire signs to identify spring. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
Ready?</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
1. Snowbells- little flowers with bases that look like tulips, that grows these flimsy little stems and have this adorable white hanging flower</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
2. Crocuses- purple, yellow and white flowers, with bases like tulips which are close to the ground and cover the hillsides and anything that will let them grow</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
3. Daffodils- the cute little yellow flowers with their cup-like center, that we all love</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
4. Tulips- if you don't know what a tulip is, I just took your name off my list of friends</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
It wasn't long before the snowbells had made their appearance, and then they were overtaken with crocuses, and now daffodils and tulips are beginning to make their appearance. As is the sun. Life is good!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
So take that Canada, and your bitter cold snap!</div>
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPxoZ5Xgj9oTzWNH20ug9KSxFRCc1b5QsNVyzuJvEYPX_rHcQFfeE2YVMU8r1G7nlEXL6iWiKO_N_Es-XDQstIkHHEQYoCjVZnS47Vg9lJE-4QXZLpqgrxODM5NKXzd8gfAdFgGRtG7Q/s1600/blog+1.jpg" height="143" width="400" /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16.1200008392334px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
But what February really was all about was "The Weekend of Dreams". I will explain.</div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
This weekend of dreams, which overlaps with Valentines Day, basically is what sets Glasgow</div>
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTYwfTckyS_Eb4wRI4VDumzFm2axUBUKlk9w7F13FcD7CLU2ytFP-a37T2ltZyCd2rpp1mF6evYQxczE96hCEQophsLUthWrJzI8wJOgQz8Wqfvdk8n0PRgxVmRpKtHuc74OHbgUvB74/s1600/blog+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; clear: right; float: right; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16.1200008392334px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTYwfTckyS_Eb4wRI4VDumzFm2axUBUKlk9w7F13FcD7CLU2ytFP-a37T2ltZyCd2rpp1mF6evYQxczE96hCEQophsLUthWrJzI8wJOgQz8Wqfvdk8n0PRgxVmRpKtHuc74OHbgUvB74/s1600/blog+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; clear: right; float: right; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 16.1200008392334px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVTYwfTckyS_Eb4wRI4VDumzFm2axUBUKlk9w7F13FcD7CLU2ytFP-a37T2ltZyCd2rpp1mF6evYQxczE96hCEQophsLUthWrJzI8wJOgQz8Wqfvdk8n0PRgxVmRpKtHuc74OHbgUvB74/s1600/blog+10.jpg" height="141" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfdvYk_q5B8u7TAII8YeF8_VQ5ueV1BT-Vn0r6sq8sjFPscvkztsUFrsdS-a-T8Tv1I58dyeYISycb_YQxnfnBPY-XZmr7WUnQEWl1rbyIGJAI77l4JS7LM9WuTJ5Dn_5XW8mwCeYNP90/s1600/blog+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfdvYk_q5B8u7TAII8YeF8_VQ5ueV1BT-Vn0r6sq8sjFPscvkztsUFrsdS-a-T8Tv1I58dyeYISycb_YQxnfnBPY-XZmr7WUnQEWl1rbyIGJAI77l4JS7LM9WuTJ5Dn_5XW8mwCeYNP90/s1600/blog+6.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>University apart from all other vet schools and makes us awesome. Why? Well, Thursday (13th) begins with Mr. Vet School. This is a pageant for men to shake what their momma's gave them and flaunts their lady-lumps across stage in lingerie, evening wear, and in some sort of talent. Then after eliminations (and tears on stage), the boy become men in competitions which can take the shape of just about everything. I won't let you into too much into our secret world of awesome but let's just say, it was fantastic. The following hangover day was V-Day and together, with Laurel and Katy, we took to one of our favourite bars (Hillhead Bookclub) and partook in a <span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">ménage</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"> à </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">trois. Sounds pretty hilarious, right? It was. Then on Saturday was the fanciest evening of them all, according to Vet School, in which we swapped scrubs, wellies, coveralls, bodily fluids and dirt for evening dresses, make-up, hairspray and kilts. The vet school took over the Hilton in downtown Glasgow where we were treated to a black-tie affair, complete with ceilidh dancing. I can't even begin to fill you in on how fantastic and expensive that weekend was (which was totally worth it).</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"> </span></div>
</span><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcrrSzhnn7klqjIftIwCAwUBnoiQCGXeA7_KDktTczqk1hcMqH0sx49jqqfDhxfNN2uEF4rnP0hbcIlV4SD-qkWkzK_-5Z4wvxcPfF6o1DN3EoXOrcy2S4CMU5n4QtCms-5FM9olF352g/s1600/blog+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcrrSzhnn7klqjIftIwCAwUBnoiQCGXeA7_KDktTczqk1hcMqH0sx49jqqfDhxfNN2uEF4rnP0hbcIlV4SD-qkWkzK_-5Z4wvxcPfF6o1DN3EoXOrcy2S4CMU5n4QtCms-5FM9olF352g/s1600/blog+2.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">And then, to top off my procrastination in February, the Olympics arrived. Since I have been without a TV since I have arrived in Scotland, I took to BBC on my Mac to watch basically every event known to man. I completed absolutely no homework, I got headaches from staring at my computer screen for so long and I made bets with myself as to how long I could watch TV without putting clothes on (because clothes meant being a real person and the only thing I was going to be real person for was to go to school, or marry Prince Charming).</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"><br /></span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">I also acquired/stole/adopted/found a charcoal BBQ. In the ever damp world of Scotland, lighting a charcoal BBQ is a challenge, especially for someone who has never lit a charcoal BBQ. So I recruited my Safa (Roxy), Yankee (Katy) and Canadian (Rachel) for a BBQ and a crash course on how to use hairspray to light a grill. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"><br /></span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">Then, I went and saw my first concert in Scotland. It was none other than ERIC CHURCH. </span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"><br /></span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">*excuse me while I fan-girl for a moment...*</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"><br /></span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelSi5Znp2sps3rvkv1LuwMeCtFsiKIvA7yKw6Gh_pClgTGnUiAbkyOZpYjuvijjganU-WG-45VhJR-m_gZFJYzyxRuOPfb07TfnOO_OuaMTcVMf0ZE1Fzya2qfWaZYAqf5EcLnJqG_Vc/s1600/blog+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelSi5Znp2sps3rvkv1LuwMeCtFsiKIvA7yKw6Gh_pClgTGnUiAbkyOZpYjuvijjganU-WG-45VhJR-m_gZFJYzyxRuOPfb07TfnOO_OuaMTcVMf0ZE1Fzya2qfWaZYAqf5EcLnJqG_Vc/s1600/blog+4.jpg" height="128" width="200" /></a><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">Finally, as the great finale to an excellent month, the Mom of the Refreshers AKA the glue that holds us together and helps maintain my sanity, was able to convince ~20 "apparent" adults to dress up as superheros and go bowling for her birthday. I will tell you right now, you know you are special when you can make ANYONE, especially me, dress in a spandex outfit and go in public like that. I learned several things from that night:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"><br /></span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">1. Don't bowl in heels</span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">2. It is possible to glue your eyelids shut with eyelash glue</span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">3. I suck at bowling, so if anyone ever proposes this as a date, prepare yourself to use the alley with bumpers</span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"> </span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">So how does one follow an epic month like that? Like this: write a paper on testis, start the last module of your first year in vet school, go to Wale to lamb and bring little babies into the world on your birthday, and pack your life into a mini-suitcase to go to Paris. </span></div>
</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinB5caJ5i-Ag_idCqrZ0TRlWlmJAeRBwdFVgloSt_y_C87WvttPpy2cZ5THoKmoVAzo_ozdyqn8MGij1SglBZFjwo12FqD-F0A6pGLHUCurV7N-dDktnkfJPVhQiSLRtViPiB97GJAVtg/s1600/blog+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinB5caJ5i-Ag_idCqrZ0TRlWlmJAeRBwdFVgloSt_y_C87WvttPpy2cZ5THoKmoVAzo_ozdyqn8MGij1SglBZFjwo12FqD-F0A6pGLHUCurV7N-dDktnkfJPVhQiSLRtViPiB97GJAVtg/s1600/blog+3.jpg" height="113" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16.1200008392334px;">Life is good!</span></div>
</span></div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F3.bp.blogspot.com%2F-6qme04ioqtw%2FUxm5PuV4h_I%2FAAAAAAAABBQ%2FHWaL_-n1JbI%2Fs1600%2Fblog%2B2.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcrrSzhnn7klqjIftIwCAwUBnoiQCGXeA7_KDktTczqk1hcMqH0sx49jqqfDhxfNN2uEF4rnP0hbcIlV4SD-qkWkzK_-5Z4wvxcPfF6o1DN3EoXOrcy2S4CMU5n4QtCms-5FM9olF352g/s1600/blog+2.jpg" --><!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F3.bp.blogspot.com%2F-6ANaeWwVHqs%2FUxm5SMYFdZI%2FAAAAAAAABBk%2FRir8Oaf0IX8%2Fs1600%2Fblog%2B4.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhelSi5Znp2sps3rvkv1LuwMeCtFsiKIvA7yKw6Gh_pClgTGnUiAbkyOZpYjuvijjganU-WG-45VhJR-m_gZFJYzyxRuOPfb07TfnOO_OuaMTcVMf0ZE1Fzya2qfWaZYAqf5EcLnJqG_Vc/s1600/blog+4.jpg" --><!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F3.bp.blogspot.com%2F-BbpfeoIAaEs%2FUxm5UgZhqoI%2FAAAAAAAABB0%2Fxpgom4jqcRQ%2Fs1600%2Fblog%2B6.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfdvYk_q5B8u7TAII8YeF8_VQ5ueV1BT-Vn0r6sq8sjFPscvkztsUFrsdS-a-T8Tv1I58dyeYISycb_YQxnfnBPY-XZmr7WUnQEWl1rbyIGJAI77l4JS7LM9WuTJ5Dn_5XW8mwCeYNP90/s1600/blog+6.jpg" -->Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-17041588519388342122014-02-02T06:56:00.000-07:002014-02-02T07:06:09.689-07:00January<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
January: The month of new beginnings, resolutions, and wishful thinking which inevitably leads to February, and often times disappointment.<br />
<br />
I looked at January as an opportunity to have a brighter outlook on life given the rough year that 2013 shaped up to be and let me tell you, it has been a struggle.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5En0re3o6Emj00hV546YK7ur3iDyXFboqYwxq-Cx__CW9XeTRAphohlxpryAwvfXBtgFDQp6LQERcvWLnv8NHvI9g_VxQ-Sv857w1WZWZEhG0kKsJyL05XQfdfMqr5EmY13RMbK6ix0/s1600/loch+lomond+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC5En0re3o6Emj00hV546YK7ur3iDyXFboqYwxq-Cx__CW9XeTRAphohlxpryAwvfXBtgFDQp6LQERcvWLnv8NHvI9g_VxQ-Sv857w1WZWZEhG0kKsJyL05XQfdfMqr5EmY13RMbK6ix0/s1600/loch+lomond+1.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
Moving back to Glasgow was hard. I wasn't being left behind by my family this time but instead I was coming home to open arms and it was not long after I accepted the warm embrace of home, friends and family, that I was turning away and leaving. Saying goodbye does not get easier the more times it happens and for some reason, being left is easier than making the decision to leave. Maybe it is because you do not have a choice in the matter whereas being 'the leaver' means you make the conscious decision to get out, and get out quick.<br />
<br />
Glasgow, my (third?) home, took me back but not without complications. I won't bore you with the details of what really irritates me, but on top of all that, my roommate and I were faced with possible eviction over a lease with the wrong landlords name. A mistake which I happened to point out and not only did the agency threaten that, but they made us forge a new lease by back-dating said document. Pretty outrageous. Now I have that little card up my sleeve for when they try and screw us out of or damage deposit which I have no doubts, they will try to do.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-skA_yHteui9PfeYb9mCQ7u-aVcDjpdT7RK50dxT6jUmUPtoIk58phr0pn8blUr6ysEjkxP70FRAZZDjCP8r07m4OoeLIS1HPNrJgVJfy5aDh5GaQUydp0H2JOINqHdxPJ9S40wxubCg/s1600/kade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-skA_yHteui9PfeYb9mCQ7u-aVcDjpdT7RK50dxT6jUmUPtoIk58phr0pn8blUr6ysEjkxP70FRAZZDjCP8r07m4OoeLIS1HPNrJgVJfy5aDh5GaQUydp0H2JOINqHdxPJ9S40wxubCg/s1600/kade.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhE4ARRAh-N92VUP5eav43rkGs8Ne3v3FVpmDG4nKBt8i14KyQq7xR8KgEta6vChuh0SJzKAsx6u9ZipItAABH7hQSNv6XCob6osnVY9ey0A7r-Ni_nzuM6UqEOfBLFYx11YS8nPmxWE/s1600/lochlomond+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhE4ARRAh-N92VUP5eav43rkGs8Ne3v3FVpmDG4nKBt8i14KyQq7xR8KgEta6vChuh0SJzKAsx6u9ZipItAABH7hQSNv6XCob6osnVY9ey0A7r-Ni_nzuM6UqEOfBLFYx11YS8nPmxWE/s1600/lochlomond+2.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>In other news, I temporarily landed a new furry roommate, Kade. Kade, the terrier/poodle mix, became the thorn in my side, my snuggle buddy and woman's best friend all at the same time. I have revived my inner babysitter, been forcibly made to play with more trains than I can count and I have a collection of 5-year old Picasso's on my fridge. I also purchased not one, not two, but THREE dresses for vet ball because I have still not outgrown indecisiveness. I've embraced having a glass of wine when I try and pretend to study, and I landed a lambing opportunity in Wales where I will spend the better part of two weeks pulling lambs out of straining ewes and bottle feeding the itty, bitty babies. Loch Lomoond is now my weekend destination of choice as long as it means I do not need to hike in the snow (thats why I live in Canada- I only bargained for rain in this country). I also learned how to drive in the UK, albeit, I receive the occasional honk for something I apparently did wrong but have yet to recognize. I have mastered putting a cow in a crush, flipping a sheep and suturing at half light-speed. I have also developed an irrational fear of eating and drinking anything after taking lectures of food borne illnesses way to seriously so I am currently overcooking everything I eat, and drinking only water that has been boiled (i.e.: tea). Best of all, we are now more than half way through the school year, with only two of the six modules remaining, with a sizeable break in between both modules to go lambing, which I will also fill with a trip to Paris with Daddio.<br />
<br />
Long story short, school rocks, my social life still sucks, my desire to drink wine is the same, and I am slowly learning to accept that food poisoning is a possibility (but I desperately hope it doesn't happen to me) and is only a temporary means of weight loss.</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-58512970555843266412013-12-27T20:33:00.001-07:002013-12-27T23:02:15.785-07:00Year in Review<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Well, what a year 2013 has been. Full of ups and downs, life changing events and several things I wish I could forget, good friends and even better friends, and memories that will last a lifetime. I will admit, there were lots of tears and even more tears from laughter, but those tears unrelated to humour were some of the most painful I've ever shed and the ones I would wish upon no one.<br />
<br />
So bear with me while I give you the Reader's Digest version of the last year:<br />
<br />
<b><u>JANUARY</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlVkSI1Rox1AW8yNlgYVJhuwm3w-4XwDtFa_YL5Lc41knJ8q4MWmGrGaq5tPLhwr9EFn-gwkP3ISY6Ue_85s8CwHuFW7NDXfGEccgjOTTV_USMcqa1RcoOE0KJqSIEHxMwwIJM4X6aSk/s1600/blog+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdlVkSI1Rox1AW8yNlgYVJhuwm3w-4XwDtFa_YL5Lc41knJ8q4MWmGrGaq5tPLhwr9EFn-gwkP3ISY6Ue_85s8CwHuFW7NDXfGEccgjOTTV_USMcqa1RcoOE0KJqSIEHxMwwIJM4X6aSk/s320/blog+1.jpg" width="320" /></a>I was in the thick of receiving word on the outcome of my Veterinary Medicine applications and was also heading to California for an interview with the University of Glasgow. Little did I know at this time, this interview was going to be the beginning of the rest of my life. I flew to San Francisco for the first time with my Dad, and together, we took Cali by storm. We made the most out of a stressful weekend by taking the coastal highway from San Fran to San Luis Obispo, stopping along the way to eat the best chowder and see some of the most amazing coastal sites.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u>FEBRUARY</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEICCblXhkdDV9mOPbjO_4_6Wj_SHezWuOjOzCk2r5diDFKBi5p5CpTLI2wUfJJ-OK8O9_8bowR8SoOGtdQcrumspvrweSA5nyt0iC71y0y4Sahi-dorP-wK-VrHuQbxdsxQDqdfEw0vs/s1600/blog+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEICCblXhkdDV9mOPbjO_4_6Wj_SHezWuOjOzCk2r5diDFKBi5p5CpTLI2wUfJJ-OK8O9_8bowR8SoOGtdQcrumspvrweSA5nyt0iC71y0y4Sahi-dorP-wK-VrHuQbxdsxQDqdfEw0vs/s200/blog+6.jpg" width="200" /></a>My first of five offers to vet school arrives and it is from the University of Glasgow. If you were not privy to the story of how I got the news here is the short version:<br />
<br />
I was in Walmart, read my email and basically collapsed on my cart and started sobbing. Once I had left enough tears of joy on the floor, I walked right out of the store to find a human being I actually knew that would be willing to hug me. Lots of tears that day, but there were definitely tears of joy.<br />
<br />
This was also when I officially decided I wanted to be best friends with Jennifer Lawrence. Well, it was probably before then, but I officially became obsessed. Don't worry J. Law, I won't stalk you, but seriously, lets be BFF's. We also went to Cabo San Lucas where we whale watched and went deep sea fishing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHuA2vjNaQzJ5AGIaHrsQJvzRdVlxI9coaa-cSKU0cRFmna-I7EuoBwp-it8qTVxmPiYC5coLyTT7FaiVUscwlXACCxLUGxsQiAjq-i4J412WMlZVZhNmM0uR-cgFNUGHa0XE0B18guzA/s1600/blog+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHuA2vjNaQzJ5AGIaHrsQJvzRdVlxI9coaa-cSKU0cRFmna-I7EuoBwp-it8qTVxmPiYC5coLyTT7FaiVUscwlXACCxLUGxsQiAjq-i4J412WMlZVZhNmM0uR-cgFNUGHa0XE0B18guzA/s200/blog+4.jpg" width="91" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27TaQdc9TMUPM5UDskqxTSQC1nSUSyCCGKs8_p1pUa5lZ-9yIOONa23qx3ynuhQp_MAXDIgoJWNkekUvsz82WQGgejImXDR7NNDqQlNUWqZVO3kZXRHt70axs84dsmIMjQTpydi3Lrbo/s1600/blog+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27TaQdc9TMUPM5UDskqxTSQC1nSUSyCCGKs8_p1pUa5lZ-9yIOONa23qx3ynuhQp_MAXDIgoJWNkekUvsz82WQGgejImXDR7NNDqQlNUWqZVO3kZXRHt70axs84dsmIMjQTpydi3Lrbo/s200/blog+3.jpg" width="151" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfMEYuDqKBpIiDuT6NnhprZRiNe7RSoqCRE6kHwPmcu30ZIY-JukyOSZUyUtp0V2uy71oHH99rVaSSCS2CDYRr3OqTAVbY4p6q69Y8UtAw7GkJqecqe-Yy0J42x2OLPzYwKy4whRj8yx0/s1600/blog+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfMEYuDqKBpIiDuT6NnhprZRiNe7RSoqCRE6kHwPmcu30ZIY-JukyOSZUyUtp0V2uy71oHH99rVaSSCS2CDYRr3OqTAVbY4p6q69Y8UtAw7GkJqecqe-Yy0J42x2OLPzYwKy4whRj8yx0/s200/blog+2.jpg" width="178" /></a></div>
<br />
This was also the end of my ringette career. It was at this point where I was beginning to suspect I was not going to get an offer to a North American school and my ringette season with West Hillhurst was coming to an end. I can honestly say that after playing ringette for 17 years, this was one of the most heart wrenching moments. Saying goodbye to something that had defined me nearly me entire life was difficult. I have ringette to thank for some of my life long friends, the best coaches, pseudo families and making me who I am. I still to this day think about ringette and miss it dearly and I hope sometime in the near future I will be able to get back on a team and I hope some time in the future, but a little further away, to have a wee baby girl that I can coach and get her involved in something that will maybe be one of the most important things in her life.<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<b><u>MARCH</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVKFUTTMkP8gPN7Mc95U0PVH2AgZxUv172zOndyG4v9R_E2uf33tqCHN8AtdUzkKMQIg_6l6tBbKoCfuO9Ev4Kx8isg2uoiPBWjqGRyeHNxbr3QIgKlB3ZsCrMY1WCaNS9OLP_hWc9hM/s1600/blog+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVKFUTTMkP8gPN7Mc95U0PVH2AgZxUv172zOndyG4v9R_E2uf33tqCHN8AtdUzkKMQIg_6l6tBbKoCfuO9Ev4Kx8isg2uoiPBWjqGRyeHNxbr3QIgKlB3ZsCrMY1WCaNS9OLP_hWc9hM/s200/blog+7.jpg" width="200" /></a>This was the month of my birth but also the month of midterms, which may explain why I really did nothing. I celebrated at Cowboys, wore a backless-strapless-stick on bra which did not last more than 30 seconds once inside the doors of Cowboys. Cue super awesome friend moment when Jenelle took my bra and stashed it in her purse. <br />
<br />
So basically March was the month of super awesome friends who came and made my birthday a success.<br />
<br />
Oh, and I received another offer to vet school, but really, one offer is all you need. <br />
<br />
<b><u>APRIL</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic-OyWHYpIxOvdRM8Q8oIg6t0wrcEJ43WcOWXf7o1T5dUnXYbHqJNjmKW3heZIgDujunk0cOnWueoJkCoT8OGgJ70sOGsce1ZK_T03Rj-h5yCG08ehthwu_9SjCPnaWS8qNk5aWmvYWyE/s1600/blog+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic-OyWHYpIxOvdRM8Q8oIg6t0wrcEJ43WcOWXf7o1T5dUnXYbHqJNjmKW3heZIgDujunk0cOnWueoJkCoT8OGgJ70sOGsce1ZK_T03Rj-h5yCG08ehthwu_9SjCPnaWS8qNk5aWmvYWyE/s200/blog+5.jpg" width="133" /></a>This marked the end of my undergraduate career. I wrote my last final at the University of Calgary and walked out the doors for the last time as a student. I closed the doors on a very important chapter in my life, again one that introduced me to many new people, taught me many things both in life and in education, and showed me how people change as they get older (for better or for worse). <br />
<br />
I also officially made my decision to move away from everything I had grown to know and love and move to Glasgow in September. Cue emotional and mental breakdown. <br />
<br />
April is hereby known as the month of tears of education: finals, graduation and making life decisions. <br />
<br />
<b><u>MAY</u></b><br />
<br />
I started working full time at an emergency clinic and realized that this is likely what I will end up doing in the end, unless something miraculous happens in the next few years that changes my mind. Emergency work is so chaotic, rewarding and full of amazing people that I really see no one veterinary field that I want to be in. Except for protections- I would like to be involved in that too. Dr. Margaret Doyle, I have you to thank for converting me! <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Here is a super honest confession. For my vet school interview, they asked who was my role model. Guess what? Dr. Doyle, I wrote about you. Awkward, right? I have no idea what I would have done had I not met you way back in the day. I have you to thank for a lot of my experience, getting my hands dirty in surgery and for getting me into vet school. Thank you, again and again and again.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilfvy_g9klULYW-pCd3Y6IFsq3UHiiskBAObmHcLa-ENpZ3iolklz6QDlfsI8Edsb9MFOSI03WdxmpAh5N0xAmZlb5HI4cJPCPMKW4wJpUArmcDQTjerVZxTvPiX4GqqJtleqX7tz4j38/s1600/blog+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilfvy_g9klULYW-pCd3Y6IFsq3UHiiskBAObmHcLa-ENpZ3iolklz6QDlfsI8Edsb9MFOSI03WdxmpAh5N0xAmZlb5HI4cJPCPMKW4wJpUArmcDQTjerVZxTvPiX4GqqJtleqX7tz4j38/s320/blog+8.jpg" width="320" /></a>This was also the month of Mother's and I made my way to Edmonton to celebrate Mother's Day along side my own wonderful mother, and my two grandmothers. This was the last time I would celebrate Mother's Day with both grandmothers because my Grandma Ag, my maternal grandmother, was in the hospital and was being taken all too fast by the cursed cancer. Cue tears. Lots of them. Standing beside anyone sick and unable is so overwhelming: you feel helpless, powerless and sometime hopeless. Luckily, Grandma Ag is full of the dickens and could brighten a room in the worst of times.<br />
<br />
<b><u>JUNE</u></b><br />
<br />
I celebrated the one year anniversary of coming home from Africa. Africa was life changing for me, again meeting new friends that I know I would have forever including those from my beloved C-Unit, Melissa, Lauren, and the rest of the crazy vols from AP. Ellie in particular has been of monumental support to me since I have met her and I have no idea why I have been blessed with such a fabulous friend, but Ellie my dear, you are fabulous and I treasure your friendship. <br />
<br />
I also walked the stage for the second time but this time with a B.Sc Zoology degree while one of my dearest friends returned home from Edmonton with a nursing degree of her own and two wicked jobs.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtaOF_7B7RCRtxWXy5KtVJcFFi-4g7MXGn2hSm6MkSU9lB7pqF9Ni5BHUV1ODFslvkuDm1dI-GgxagV4iVVqRfdeQzT20sl7HVkgnB2pE117Hf2AF26rwBW_abwX4mStbOijPZpJn4w8I/s1600/blog+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtaOF_7B7RCRtxWXy5KtVJcFFi-4g7MXGn2hSm6MkSU9lB7pqF9Ni5BHUV1ODFslvkuDm1dI-GgxagV4iVVqRfdeQzT20sl7HVkgnB2pE117Hf2AF26rwBW_abwX4mStbOijPZpJn4w8I/s200/blog+11.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPCQ7v3v_DNRvMa2tZVeiF7ZotXSuiqdnyaqhgAwaRCUlAHGHYcR8wXhEFMhGsV3fyx6a5igstRddzIaXkQdhxKUTXXVRp98nb0efOzHMwgYXrQqi1KCDQGXQL-t5hyphenhyphenLdcAR0hOt4XZ1k/s1600/blog+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPCQ7v3v_DNRvMa2tZVeiF7ZotXSuiqdnyaqhgAwaRCUlAHGHYcR8wXhEFMhGsV3fyx6a5igstRddzIaXkQdhxKUTXXVRp98nb0efOzHMwgYXrQqi1KCDQGXQL-t5hyphenhyphenLdcAR0hOt4XZ1k/s200/blog+10.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaPu3MhgDqE9J8Wz4IBN81dHmM8dDYDOjFg2aW-r9HRxZn6Fuo2F6QY5nvPXLiYB6j8wI9u9IGwiTtrKvuJWZPkHmg9moI8xnOppXI8nMFgpaILdDhUgfT11KmtuPmduLfEwg-43ZcK0U/s1600/blog+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaPu3MhgDqE9J8Wz4IBN81dHmM8dDYDOjFg2aW-r9HRxZn6Fuo2F6QY5nvPXLiYB6j8wI9u9IGwiTtrKvuJWZPkHmg9moI8xnOppXI8nMFgpaILdDhUgfT11KmtuPmduLfEwg-43ZcK0U/s200/blog+12.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Then the dreaded Alberta floods struck and covered southern Alberta in murky water, thereby causing mass destruction and simultaneously uniting all of Alberta in a monumental effort to restore what the floods had taken. The destruction was wide spread and significant and I can say I was proud to call myself Calgarian. HELL OR HIGH WATER!<br />
<br />
<b><u>JULY</u></b><br />
<br />
The month of life and death. I helped deliver not one, but two litters of puppies at work in a single night (one of my favourite things to do because there is nothing more adorable and relieving than a newborn puppy cry).<br />
<br />
<br />
But on July 18, I lost my Grandma Ag. I had never lost a family member before and I still am reeling from the loss. I think about her everyday and I look for her where ever I go. Heaven is one sassy angel richer with her there. Grandma was one of the sassiest, most hilarious, vulgar, caring, out spoken and wonderful people. She stood bench side and would wave through the glass every time ringette would bring me to Edmonton. She hollered at the top of her lungs for no apparent reason and would laugh at any joke, even if it was just to make you feel like you were funny (maybe this is why I sometime have a terrible sense of humour?). She will forever hold a special place in my heart and I will continue to follow her light until I join her up above. I miss and love you Grandma.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEmkBl9Z92CdiX4rAvqlL09VaU2rjdfIhdM8ljdpuWSRwzkh54QONhwT6TEVl77ZLd-cpkAgYcd7rNEfLweDsMHzhN3nLx4QdVKte-JMt6pugM9o7lj8yXL9_sCWPSSowWZSxFs-NMQIg/s1600/blog+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEmkBl9Z92CdiX4rAvqlL09VaU2rjdfIhdM8ljdpuWSRwzkh54QONhwT6TEVl77ZLd-cpkAgYcd7rNEfLweDsMHzhN3nLx4QdVKte-JMt6pugM9o7lj8yXL9_sCWPSSowWZSxFs-NMQIg/s320/blog+9.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Still struggling with loss, I jumped into fostering a puppy that was brought into work by a rescue foundation. Broken and in need or some serious love and care, I took her into our home during the week and traded off with her soon to be forever home mother on the weekends. Together, we shared custody of my first foster puppy and my now fur-niece while she took her road to recovery.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHcgiEt5aey6JfT_5cFfCmZJfUr8tlQOqGHWcEwB5vvEYEB9yuywmkO0STe4stD78x1lBWJXbwSgC8ImpjIZg2ML9xn7hH7TVXuKYVvZO2aET_GXCu33MSZ7h_WYDgv_PxxiDBnWAnYA/s1600/blog+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHcgiEt5aey6JfT_5cFfCmZJfUr8tlQOqGHWcEwB5vvEYEB9yuywmkO0STe4stD78x1lBWJXbwSgC8ImpjIZg2ML9xn7hH7TVXuKYVvZO2aET_GXCu33MSZ7h_WYDgv_PxxiDBnWAnYA/s200/blog+13.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OUQ837hpvC8qrPQcCReyrK_qtmqXGnUfCGmZBXz1qkNaIf405ly5BDtAk5xX52iOcBVxcA815No9CQzksBXGKqGqhBqS7i4D95zBgdOKxqgezPr6dF_Y1QeigIgqoBVhTtB8DcqEQ2Q/s1600/blog+14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5OUQ837hpvC8qrPQcCReyrK_qtmqXGnUfCGmZBXz1qkNaIf405ly5BDtAk5xX52iOcBVxcA815No9CQzksBXGKqGqhBqS7i4D95zBgdOKxqgezPr6dF_Y1QeigIgqoBVhTtB8DcqEQ2Q/s200/blog+14.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
Fun fact- I would have brought this little angel to Scotland but things just did not work out but I was very happy with where she ended up and know she is SPOILED in her forever home. Thank you Michelle.<br />
<br />
<b><u>AUGUST</u></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNrXGse8grZpANYHLaWXWGp2CxBxJaS61GcsQdMJFcDwTbiPU4WZ8K_v25APzXc7PHnEdM3DS4BSq-nqw1hSbV53rUZafItozKK5RWGJhuDOrGkqioTZkZz2SOB7d6ADndmabb6lSFtw0/s1600/blog+16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNrXGse8grZpANYHLaWXWGp2CxBxJaS61GcsQdMJFcDwTbiPU4WZ8K_v25APzXc7PHnEdM3DS4BSq-nqw1hSbV53rUZafItozKK5RWGJhuDOrGkqioTZkZz2SOB7d6ADndmabb6lSFtw0/s200/blog+16.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNQcGG7T9suouzrAbYujxOnO6jj-ZjBqdcxgRBOBu5yw2kQYbiuvLXGE0uLUY2eQUr3qvu1KPPCHzdrU28YD5TOmNYCog4ljl7qpvlwGwzr_ZOqR4P-9jqEbqQhp-vUiFQX1AZ-0Mib0/s1600/blog+17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNQcGG7T9suouzrAbYujxOnO6jj-ZjBqdcxgRBOBu5yw2kQYbiuvLXGE0uLUY2eQUr3qvu1KPPCHzdrU28YD5TOmNYCog4ljl7qpvlwGwzr_ZOqR4P-9jqEbqQhp-vUiFQX1AZ-0Mib0/s200/blog+17.jpg" width="133" /></a>The month of poor decisions. One by me and by the general public. <br />
<br />
My poor decision included piercing my own ears. Why is this significant enough to make it into a review? Because. But really, it was not as fun as it seems in the Parent Trap and also because I am still trying to figure out how to even out the holes in my ears.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioIaUY1uvXXxJtgJLiBnloOS31T8FEHysIMLzypb48-tTqU4uzcPv3Pe24L87mON4RyD9U78BJ33Dr6oE_JQccBfeGzqD8SrindJBZPj6shaC2rJRhtpPfsPLGXOkQP_nLFZm6iAr-df8/s1600/blog+18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioIaUY1uvXXxJtgJLiBnloOS31T8FEHysIMLzypb48-tTqU4uzcPv3Pe24L87mON4RyD9U78BJ33Dr6oE_JQccBfeGzqD8SrindJBZPj6shaC2rJRhtpPfsPLGXOkQP_nLFZm6iAr-df8/s200/blog+18.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Poor public decision? Leaving your dog in a car on a hot day. My public service announcement: Since I feel quite strongly on animal welfare (who would have guessed with me going into vet school, right?) I am on the look out for bone heads who leave animals in vehicles when they should not, when animals are mistreated and other general idiotic acts that do not coincide with animal welfare. So when I find 2 dog in a car on a hot day (read: 30 degrees OUTSIDE), then I will call the fire department to come and find you.<br />
<br />
This was also when I packed up my life into 3 suitcases, said my goodbyes, some more difficult than others, and flew to Scotland with the family to do a little site seeing before moving me into my residence. <br />
<br />
<b><u>SEPTEMBER</u></b><br />
<br />
The whirl wind month. School started, I moved into and out of residence in a hurry, moved into my own flat with my first roommate ever, met my Big Vet, my new fur-nephew, and The Refreshers. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTWzkPIiEZEH1Q1e-vDMUfdaNbodM_lRIBvdpFC20zs3ABgXqU231P5wX_fTpZImGkbLqtLM1A2PnrP4z7mnsLm1RMwXy0AzlWnylDUduk7r0c_RjPruhjQ5VIYcUMF4VbHNIViec2s8/s1600/blog+19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTTWzkPIiEZEH1Q1e-vDMUfdaNbodM_lRIBvdpFC20zs3ABgXqU231P5wX_fTpZImGkbLqtLM1A2PnrP4z7mnsLm1RMwXy0AzlWnylDUduk7r0c_RjPruhjQ5VIYcUMF4VbHNIViec2s8/s200/blog+19.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
Really September was all about getting settled in Scotland and I would not have been able to do so without Rachel. From Big Vet to true friend in a hurry, I value her more than she knows. Everything she has told me about school, Scotland and life has been true and she has been influential in getting me to where I am now, and keeping me sane. Rachel, you are a very special person and again, I am not sure what I did to deserve a friend like you but I am glad we crossed paths.<br />
<br />
The Refreshers also entered my life now and with it, my friend card rapidly was overflowing. Kidding. Always room for more! But this group has also been influential in my adjustment in Scotland is probably the key reason why I have not been home sick and am having such a great time over seas. <br />
<br />
<b><u>OCTOBER</u></b><br />
<br />
The month of firsts. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1mfw1W8GikDqMAa8ox6B5-32vlWSK38AriccC1u3xRJMXd471AY49xQ4Z7l1Y7xSWjs4Y0PpQA6cpevcvPVwx6eXIx0jG5H8rGgAtnCmkc-OZjFJzJUfyNlxUKTVZnGoWb3sxdg6hw8/s1600/blog+26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1mfw1W8GikDqMAa8ox6B5-32vlWSK38AriccC1u3xRJMXd471AY49xQ4Z7l1Y7xSWjs4Y0PpQA6cpevcvPVwx6eXIx0jG5H8rGgAtnCmkc-OZjFJzJUfyNlxUKTVZnGoWb3sxdg6hw8/s200/blog+26.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
My first phone call home. Why? Well, when I left, I thought I would be home sick and it would be even worse if I saw my family's faces so I delayed and delayed and delayed and then when I started hearing everyone was calling home, I felt a bit like the WORST DAUGHTER/SISTER EVER. Cue tears and mascara EVERYWHERE. <br />
<br />
We also celebrated our first of two Thanksgiving with our new family and I was joined by a familiar face from home, Drew, which made Thanksgiving even more special. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwNKWEGPJGZGk9jrSiJ25c5F5AQ9em7SqLlpBs-H4Kh5eMnoOQHqcGGJIFqsyCpljiGreMYosaYKEZLSzGCYMInejRhIi2Lspo3CwxatoeyyOUOK2U-p4oanuL6Z4y8yVf2D0EUJsdC4/s1600/blog+27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwNKWEGPJGZGk9jrSiJ25c5F5AQ9em7SqLlpBs-H4Kh5eMnoOQHqcGGJIFqsyCpljiGreMYosaYKEZLSzGCYMInejRhIi2Lspo3CwxatoeyyOUOK2U-p4oanuL6Z4y8yVf2D0EUJsdC4/s1600/blog+27.jpg" /></a><br />
I ALSO COOKED MY FIRST TURKEY EVER AND IT WAS AWESOME. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaghpMCufp1zSqsvM_9m7Qx1GVyQczD2Y24aIwWZG0HU1I-gE1FLWotLnbETpKhY6i4i5Kw9ZXpyicXEhDp7_Kkz1HXvIq8r-w6e3-9EAGOBzY1khP1DOpW239X713XPcvqKSB410Qvs/s1600/blog+21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaghpMCufp1zSqsvM_9m7Qx1GVyQczD2Y24aIwWZG0HU1I-gE1FLWotLnbETpKhY6i4i5Kw9ZXpyicXEhDp7_Kkz1HXvIq8r-w6e3-9EAGOBzY1khP1DOpW239X713XPcvqKSB410Qvs/s200/blog+21.jpg" width="200" /></a>Also a large group of us went to our first hockey game over seas and while it was nothing extraordinary, it was nice to see something familiar and it was great to enjoy something somewhat North American.<br />
<br />
<br />
We also celebrated Halloween 3 times and on the third time, I drank too much wine before 9pm, pretended like I was walking a marathon (but really it was only 5 minute walk in 5 inch heels) and thought about falling asleep in a bush, which I contemplated while sitting in the rain, with my feet in a puddle on a curb about two blocks from my flat. This is proof I am not an alcoholic because I have no idea what my alcoholic tolerance is. Awkward.<br />
<br />
<b><u>NOVEMBER</u></b><br />
<br />
TRIPS, TRIPS EVERYWHERE.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Xco8ktL7bKwPWptW8bkX7GhwaGc8XBxGiFtdxZR4gyPr3fSroEmDGdwDExFf6nKRzwfMy42sUHmrTOH730EIN94xnRxyyYkHtjwro8zFLR59a_Q78SFs1JLDc_XgfFdWPojEr2h8RPA/s1600/blog+29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="37" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Xco8ktL7bKwPWptW8bkX7GhwaGc8XBxGiFtdxZR4gyPr3fSroEmDGdwDExFf6nKRzwfMy42sUHmrTOH730EIN94xnRxyyYkHtjwro8zFLR59a_Q78SFs1JLDc_XgfFdWPojEr2h8RPA/s320/blog+29.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Malaga, Dublin and Amsterdam were on the agenda in this month which means that to fit everything into the budget, we did not eat or drink while in Glasgow. Priorities. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimutY48Le-3Cw0OezFXIgtHR8G4tF0dI3TH-XwH2O4jZWIDqsMAKq7_PflmEtfQ6SIcXmIsJ6NIp1apTlbZggMfZ_i0y7SbaN9uVpMjdq-HvHDSWeps2xM_47HZmsI5ByQZkey7Q_iq_4/s1600/blog+28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimutY48Le-3Cw0OezFXIgtHR8G4tF0dI3TH-XwH2O4jZWIDqsMAKq7_PflmEtfQ6SIcXmIsJ6NIp1apTlbZggMfZ_i0y7SbaN9uVpMjdq-HvHDSWeps2xM_47HZmsI5ByQZkey7Q_iq_4/s200/blog+28.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdV5P2iZDNHGdfwb1ueqoD9ngSjiWc07HI0avh4ctuM4-dSbf5ozqo3PIWkAAq-M355DwzHVhOQH6v9AwDfsmEilT5ZSMqLUTrSwdfEfw7WhKmbEtM63dnYDjB0Y9OVQQYog1lHFJwrY/s1600/blog+32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdV5P2iZDNHGdfwb1ueqoD9ngSjiWc07HI0avh4ctuM4-dSbf5ozqo3PIWkAAq-M355DwzHVhOQH6v9AwDfsmEilT5ZSMqLUTrSwdfEfw7WhKmbEtM63dnYDjB0Y9OVQQYog1lHFJwrY/s200/blog+32.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsH4Vw4nqvJ2OxCdN8QBdLxwhyDHiI_7uB0AlQ6FI7I47JKSC8L0_w8dSaz_DCUQ33JYbwvpkvQViwZ1IFZQEUSg7vE3ok5LvzYLP0lTky6u4TDecU9SG3QpxD0psU7aw9FKVGzu-_JhU/s1600/blog+31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsH4Vw4nqvJ2OxCdN8QBdLxwhyDHiI_7uB0AlQ6FI7I47JKSC8L0_w8dSaz_DCUQ33JYbwvpkvQViwZ1IFZQEUSg7vE3ok5LvzYLP0lTky6u4TDecU9SG3QpxD0psU7aw9FKVGzu-_JhU/s200/blog+31.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
<br />
It was lovely to get away, forget about school, see what Europe had to offer, especially at a steal of a deal. I really have nothing more to say about it except that I regret nothing. I spent too much, ate and drank too much and laughed too much with great friends. Success.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLTmmX-pMOnQqko73yW5pOJ5O0Bpgj-uemAaYmn0bfIQzornMjT999TwgFVE-Cj3bMuyLGcTph1yjF3Allk8GmQPXKkgHAfsVd9sc6MIAQ9d802eL55zPflU-54HP60AvvWC6BRwLBYw/s1600/blog+30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLTmmX-pMOnQqko73yW5pOJ5O0Bpgj-uemAaYmn0bfIQzornMjT999TwgFVE-Cj3bMuyLGcTph1yjF3Allk8GmQPXKkgHAfsVd9sc6MIAQ9d802eL55zPflU-54HP60AvvWC6BRwLBYw/s200/blog+30.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
We also celebrated our second Thanksgiving with the Refreshers which was bigger and more extravagant than the first, which I followed up with sheep flipping. You really cannot flip sheep on a Monday unless you have a turkey dinner on the weekend. <br />
<br />
Now, cue tears.<br />
<br />
At the end of November, I found out my parents were separating. The what, where, when and why was not important and all that mattered was coming home. Ten days and counting.<br />
<br />
<b><u>DECEMBER</u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJE-zSrqJKoGpJKV5a0gQzbkwYETVmLBbye7agQ656RUPI3OSw6ujRH4npn5dteJVR1tHWPjQgmX4p1h1OtpeQV6m-o7I-ZFP2vdd9NvN_u7g5S7hvdeGKVT-f_75ogjjlRrGpRD7U58/s1600/blog+24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsJE-zSrqJKoGpJKV5a0gQzbkwYETVmLBbye7agQ656RUPI3OSw6ujRH4npn5dteJVR1tHWPjQgmX4p1h1OtpeQV6m-o7I-ZFP2vdd9NvN_u7g5S7hvdeGKVT-f_75ogjjlRrGpRD7U58/s200/blog+24.jpg" width="200" /></a>Ten days, which turned into eleven thanks to the chaos that was my flights home, did not come soon enough. All that mattered to me was seeing my family and being the support they needed. While separation is a reality of our society in today's day and age, it is not easy for either party and the others involved, regardless of the situation. <br />
<br />
I have spent my time while I have been at home, moving back and forth between my parents and spending as much time as possible with both. Christmas has now come and gone and it was extremely difficult for me. For the first time, our family did not wake up together in the same house on Christmas morning and instead, we were divided. <br />
<br />
My time at home has been a whirl wind and while I had seen my 4 weeks on Canadian soil playing out much differently in the months leading up to it, I cannot think of any other way I would have wanted to spend it. Holidays will always be difficult but I saw both of my families on Christmas Day and Boxing Day. There were plenty of tears. More than I wish to have shed and seen shed but time will heal all wounds and we must move on, for no other reason than the world and everyone else will move on and you cannot be left behind. I do not expect to be fine tomorrow or the next day, but with each day, we heal and you will find a new normal and for me, my new normal is two families.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeLxBNKlhQ_QTtcsHTbRgg4fAKOz9en6SYn28z87b0NfZ1uuR8XsgUldexr-KbmHueBlPK3MRzQzjlU_7iC1Gy5IseL3tl2L0bIq_uxto1W3th5gDliM7_hKkwv_vzh4zrnVQHGfRZto/s1600/blog+22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeLxBNKlhQ_QTtcsHTbRgg4fAKOz9en6SYn28z87b0NfZ1uuR8XsgUldexr-KbmHueBlPK3MRzQzjlU_7iC1Gy5IseL3tl2L0bIq_uxto1W3th5gDliM7_hKkwv_vzh4zrnVQHGfRZto/s200/blog+22.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhByWEJCq51zzs74A4xrr2HiNEco8YhAuEtZgGiAqlnJI_T_yPHJSrAE84uxRLitHBmSHfr6KFK7lWOkLD9ciFbsRqmV4TqpgSvQ25qlIsZuREIZ4g2IGTU84JSNZS5M20OTM9IZZFLsCI/s1600/blog+23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhByWEJCq51zzs74A4xrr2HiNEco8YhAuEtZgGiAqlnJI_T_yPHJSrAE84uxRLitHBmSHfr6KFK7lWOkLD9ciFbsRqmV4TqpgSvQ25qlIsZuREIZ4g2IGTU84JSNZS5M20OTM9IZZFLsCI/s200/blog+23.jpg" width="112" /></a></div>
Now, I look forward to New Years and going home to my Glasgow family, hugging them and having them get me back on track with school... (someone, please help me! I did nothing this whole time...)<br />
<br />
Here's hoping your year was filled with love, laughter and friends, and that 2014 brings new beginnings and a bright future for everyone.<br />
<br />
xo</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-36093316681656839542013-12-07T15:30:00.001-07:002014-03-09T03:51:15.252-06:00WHY I HATE FLYING<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Let me tell you about my day. <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I was supposed to be flying to my home and native land today from Glasgow to Heathrow at 8:30am and then from Heathrow to Calgary at 12:30pm. Little did I know when I woke up at 4:00am after going to bed at 1:00am, I was about to be slapped in the face by British Airways and Heathrow Airport.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now picture this.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Justine arrives at Glasgow airport with her ginormous bag in tow and checks it at the desk and hauls the backpack resembling a protective shell and designer purse through security. Everything is looking good (I wasn't, but my day was). I was enroute to my home and should be arriving at ~2:30pm Calgary time. When I checked my bag, I was informed that my flight to Heathrow had been delayed by 3hrs thus making me miss my connection but they would not reschedule said connection until I actually missed it. Whatever, moving on.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I wander about, doing my thang and decide breakfast is a good idea and obviously a large latte to kick start my morning. Little did I know, this was my undoing. 9:15am I finish my breakfast, run to the toilet and then hurry off to find a nook to study in for the next couple of hours. Quick check of the Departures board and flight is still scheduled to leave in 2 hours. Check the board again 15 minutes later once settled and few pages into my book, flight has departed. WHAT THE...?!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Exactly... where did this come from. So I go stomp my Canadian butt over to the British Airways (BA) desk and was all "you just changed it? you didn't page me? what you doing willis?". They claim they paged me. Not sure if I had cotton in my ears (for the record- I didn't) but apparently I missed all 6, yes SIX, pages. Whatever BA. I can't understand your speedy Scottish accents anyways. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, now I am having a hissy fit at 9:30 in the morning and have to go reclaim my bag, stand in a ridiculous line (which I would learn in a few short hours was not ridiculous) to reschedule my 2, yes TWO, missed flights (because of missing the flight to Heathrow and the connection). Lovely ladies at BA rebooked me to 11:30am to Heathrow and 2:20pm to Calgary. Great, only 2ish hours behind schedule.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now, proactively, I go and sit by the congregation of BA gates and find out that this flight has now been delayed by 3 hours. "Why are all these flights delayed?" you might be asking at this point. This is why:</div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1390920150"><br /></a></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-25278163">http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-25278163</a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Anywho, this flight ends up not being delayed by 3 hours (surprise? No. Did they change it on the board? No). Anyways, we get on the flight, fly to Heathrow and land at 1:30pm but because of the chaos, there were no gates to park at, no arm things to connect the aircraft doors and the terminal, no tugs to pull the plane in place so we just hung out on the tarmac for another 1.5 hours. Cool beans.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Finally we get settled but they still don't have the arm to reach the plane so we have to take stairs from the back of the plane and since myself and 2 fellow vet students were seated at the front, we were some of the last to get off the plane. At this point, I have now missed flight 3, connecting to Calgary, and have to rebook the rebook at BA. Turns out EVERYONE AND THEIR DOG needs to rebook. 5.5 hours, that is FIVE AND A HALF HOURS later, we reach the ladies with bags under their eyes who reschedule us. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Fun fact- when you get off the plane last and everyone needs to rebook, flights for the same day disappear rapidly and basically people need hotels. Turns out hotels near your airport of choice are few and far between. So when Laura, my fellow 18 year old Canadian vet friend, and I make it to the desk, there is only hotels left at Gatwick.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
(sub)Fun Fact- Gatwick is ~70 minute drive from Heathrow.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So now, dead on my feet, I am told I have been rebooked until the following day (*sigh*) and have to stay in Gatwick. Putting my persistent pants on I say I want to stay at Heathrow and will pay the difference for a room on site. But then the magic happens. Laura, who is booking with baggy eyed lady #2, tells her we are friends and since Laura is 18 years old and I look like a child on the best of days, our BA ladies concocted a plan. The remaining rooms at Heathrow are reserved for those with limited mobility and first class. Baggy eyed lady #2 calls the hotel, Sofitel London Heathrow, and says she has a 17 and 18 year old at the desk, both friends who cannot be put into a Gatwick hotel and she refuses to let us stay unattended in the terminal so they have to make room for us. Result- the best news of the day! Staying on site at the Sofitel, in the squishiest bed I have seen in 4 months. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So what did we learn today?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-Sit by your gate if it has been delayed because sometimes they just make up their plans as they go</div>
<div>
-Fly with someone who looks like they need to have someone hold their hand OR be the person who needs someone to hold their hand (I was the latter today)</div>
<div>
-leave more than 2 hours when connecting at Heathrow</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Fun fact: I missed 3 flights, rebooked twice (I rebooked a rebook... awkward), traveled by plane for 1.5 hours in a 12 hour span and I am officially the world's most unlucky traveller. I would dare you all to prove me wrong, but it isn't fun. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I am signing off so that I can enjoy a bubble bath and then snuggle in pristine white sheets, a comfy duvet and an XXL t-shirt, all courtesy of BA. </div>
</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-72419247568386546102013-12-04T16:20:00.002-07:002013-12-04T16:20:14.422-07:00Not Ready To Make Nice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 14px;">Dearest Readers, </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 14px;">Let's just say the last month has been hard. Without giving away too much because the subject is delicate, things have been tough for this Williams individual.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 14px;">"Forgive? Sounds good</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 14px;">Forget? I'm not sure I could"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">This last month has been tough. While it feels like people have been ripping my heart out and stomping on it at every waking opportunity, I know things could be worse, but sometimes it is hard to believe.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">While it is sometimes hard to think that things will get better, your heart will heal, the only thing that does keep me going are those near and dear to my heart. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">What I wouldn't give to be able to hug each and every person right now and tell them how much they mean to me. To be able to tell them how precious their love and comfort is, to tell them how valuable they are to me, and to tell them that they are important. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">2013 has been a blessed opportunity in my life. I graduated from post-secondary, was accepted into the program that will begin the rest of my life, and moved away from my family. I also learned what it meant to lose someone close and to feel hurt on one of the most emotional and deepest levels there is.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">But with extreme loss, anger and sadness comes strength and support. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">So to those that need a hug, I am sending my love. To those that feel broken, remember you have a friend in me. And to those that have been hurt, forgive others not because they deserve forgiveness but because you deserve peace. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">And to those that I have not sufficiently confused with my convoluted and emotional post, know that I have had a tough month and am thankful for your thoughts at this point in time. I may not be ready to share what roller coaster I have been on at this point, but I am sure I am on an upward journey from here.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">With love from Glasgow,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">J</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">PS- This crazy Canadian is coming home in 3 days... THIS HAS TO MEAN THINGS ARE GETTING BETTER!</span></span><br />
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-88741339658355274022013-11-19T18:12:00.000-07:002013-11-19T18:41:26.913-07:00Lost<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm having a moment. <br />
<br />
One of those days where nothing feels right; where I miss home, miss my family and friends, my dogs and work, sports and snow. I'm just having a day. <br />
<br />
I thought about Grandma Ag today. Not that I don't think about her or the rest of my family everyday, but I still just haven't grasped the idea that such an integral part of my life is gone. I will myself on certain days to just finally GET it. To finally realise she is gone. My the more I think about it, the more I don't understand and the more I think she will be waiting for me, beside Grandpa Ken at their lovely Sherwood Park home, greeting me on the sidewalk. I guess this realisation won't occur until Christmas- the first time family will be together at an annual gathering. I curse that day.<br />
<br />
I think about Jessica often. The other day, I was flipping through photos on Facebook (my only source of photos here in Scotland) and I cried over her photo. To lose someone so young and beautiful.<br />
<br />
And then tonight, as I am willing myself to sleep, I absentmindedly flip through Facebook and encounter a work friend who I have finally connected with on Facebook (sometimes creeping is hard...). And the dreaded cancer word has found her too. <br />
<br />
To the "friend" I just mentioned, who will not be mentioned by name out of respect for her privacy, if you read this, I want you to know I am sending all the positive vibes I have to you. I am also sending you mental images of all the cute critters I see because I know how much we both love the itty bitty baby animals and animals in general. I also want you to know that I recognise that this post is selfish. I am sorry about that, but as I sit here and silently cry to myself, alone in my room thousand of miles from my family and friends, there is nothing that I want more than to sit in their company. And this is the only way I have to reach them and allow my thoughts out right now, at this very moment. <br />
<br />
So tonight, I fell lost and helpless. Never hopeless. <br />
<br />
Jessica was the first person who I "knew" that I ever lost. I was devastated. I did not know how to cope, I didn't know what it really meant to never see or hear from someone again, to lose someone so integral in your life (I really have her to thank for many of my childhood memories). Then I lost Grandma. I still don't know what it means to lose someone, to never see her face again, to hear her laugh, to have her poke fun at me in a way only she could (because she was one cheeky lady), to see her at the glass of a ringette game, on her couch in her living room, to play 10-Pennies with her. Only time will make me realise. <br />
<br />
This is where the helplessness is. Why them? Why my childhood friend? Why my young Grandma? Why my co-worker. Why? I don't claim to be overtly religious, but I know there is a God. But I sometimes wonder how is this FAIR? Why them? Why at all? <br />
<br />
Never hopeless though. There was never a time that Jessica was weak. While I never saw her when she was taken by the C-monster, I heard she was nothing but a ray of sunshine. Grandma? She is one hell of a fighter. Pretty sure I do not know anyone more stubborn than her. Stubborn as a mule is pretty accurate. And my "friend". I knew from the day I met her (and maybe one day I will relay to her that moment, because I thought it was hilarious) that she was something special. Really. The first day I met her. She didn't know it then what it was se was dealing with and she was already in pain, but would she quit working so hard? No. Stubborn as a mule that one is too. And now, after reading her blog far to many times for a single night, just to understand, I know in my heart she's got this. She's a fighter. She's positive (one of the most "Positive Penny"'s you will ever meet actually, and "Chatty Cathy" too!), she has a great outlook, tons of support from all sides, and she's knowledgeable. She knows what she is up against, she understands. And knowledge is power, and power is what you need to kick some serious ASS.<br />
<br />
To my "friend":<br />
<br />
What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.<br />
-Henry Stanley Haskins<br />
<br />
To Grandma and Jessica:<br />
<br />
I will see you again. Keep shining and I will follow your light.<br />
<br />
To those of you who have read along: your thoughts, prayers, well wishes, good vibes, happy thoughts, big hugs, puppy and kitty images and love should be directed to my friend while she starts her journey to recovery and to her family and and friends as they deal with the news and support her. <br />
<br />
xoxo<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikFAJlYruqYIAm1uTRRb_JsdV7XOpDMoil_9Ivfjd58DyjlfGkBDUIkEssPIhkrFOSD6DEwrUeK2Y6g3Ka5vADQYplUSwEL8Ayy93-zoiV02BTe2jv5olZTnftR4uRfUhp9VEIVSiliu0/s1600/flat,550x550,075,f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikFAJlYruqYIAm1uTRRb_JsdV7XOpDMoil_9Ivfjd58DyjlfGkBDUIkEssPIhkrFOSD6DEwrUeK2Y6g3Ka5vADQYplUSwEL8Ayy93-zoiV02BTe2jv5olZTnftR4uRfUhp9VEIVSiliu0/s320/flat,550x550,075,f.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-85538508484031099542013-10-09T03:15:00.001-06:002013-10-10T03:31:29.560-06:00Random Rambles: September<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgModbK_z8Aqt_5aWMn4BGlMhJW9Fh1Qf5HB452wOWFYtaO60f_UvJ0br-v9cqaRSUANKmsT333sYP4kn_vlrxJB9WLnWvHxRgW78Q52xxbw4yuYiqNzcj6xbuq8hrQGzjIajej-wClYdI/s1600/1379167_10153319803790111_1923342809_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgModbK_z8Aqt_5aWMn4BGlMhJW9Fh1Qf5HB452wOWFYtaO60f_UvJ0br-v9cqaRSUANKmsT333sYP4kn_vlrxJB9WLnWvHxRgW78Q52xxbw4yuYiqNzcj6xbuq8hrQGzjIajej-wClYdI/s200/1379167_10153319803790111_1923342809_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We recycle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sigh... It has been so long since I have blogged it seemed. Let me explain what has happened in the last month, and somewhat explain my absence.<br />
<br />
So, after spending no more than a few days in my residence, I started to hate it (big surprise there) and was hunting for a place to live. Ainsley, fellow Albertan, and I started scouting out our options closer to vet school in a flat that resembled more of an actual living place and less of a prison cell.<br />
<br />
Voila! Mission accomplished! We found a nice ground floor flat, two bed rooms, 2 bath, cute small kitchen and totally up our alley. A little money here, a few threats there, and we had ourselves a 12-month lease in our new home.<br />
<br />
Problems: boiler was leaking, dryer was leaking, furnace wasn't turning on, fire alarm was beeping, and we needed to find someone to fill out residence halls because we had vacated them and would be financially responsible for them until we filled them.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhSPiHFDTNbzDPHdPsWdJJrSqkuIWrUStzzNZJ2JqaBnVFNwXrBiL242DHWRr5CRQDBheM0-CZPocj3lBJc6zOJX2ozWuwRsKvnFSqQtuFKSrY0Z5UKwRmv_gN2yBYjn3JcTsG3LGPUvE/s1600/1370477_10153263952990111_1436159128_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhSPiHFDTNbzDPHdPsWdJJrSqkuIWrUStzzNZJ2JqaBnVFNwXrBiL242DHWRr5CRQDBheM0-CZPocj3lBJc6zOJX2ozWuwRsKvnFSqQtuFKSrY0Z5UKwRmv_gN2yBYjn3JcTsG3LGPUvE/s640/1370477_10153263952990111_1436159128_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Moving into the new flat</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Well, when you are tenacious and Canadian (and a bit of a b*tch sometimes), you can make everything work out.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhfWdblFRKn0CGsDVlAq7Qn9BELE6DZ-k6Zqyq0m1zWkvT3Oa81wbBtQ1m_pCO4EJBQ-l1i_K6fCMVfsU1E29bIK8v9C484zyli5hUirIU_5BxTCrjxnYt3HDpTIBqJvz07eRyqyULQs/s1600/1239836_10153271717690111_804604073_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhfWdblFRKn0CGsDVlAq7Qn9BELE6DZ-k6Zqyq0m1zWkvT3Oa81wbBtQ1m_pCO4EJBQ-l1i_K6fCMVfsU1E29bIK8v9C484zyli5hUirIU_5BxTCrjxnYt3HDpTIBqJvz07eRyqyULQs/s200/1239836_10153271717690111_804604073_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Only some of the damage done at the housewarming</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And what a relief it was when we finally were free of our leases, because that would have made one very expensive year and one very poor Justine.<br />
<br />
But I can confidently say that I feel settled and at home and comfortable. Due in large part to the enormous support system that has come to be my close group of friends, largely comprised of North Americans. We basically do everything together. They packed our flat full of bodies on our housewarming and brought more booze than seemed humanly possible to drink in one night, have been our wing-people, popped my gay bar cherry, and now will be my travelling group- BECAUSE WE ARE GOING TO DUBLIN!, and are also going to be my second family on our first Thanksgiving away from home. Vet students take Europe by storm!<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLz9r24OnN7kK_79h9zJW7YCCl0whE33AXuDztSGl4LF-T6iV5JmHm5HDdl55IMQjvNDPcZK3E-6DoxBSGSlCmsTUsZWnAENejiYxV10jJJVgAJkU5uKyZp7-hV4zHpDGkm0ja_A71xHY/s1600/995528_10153276595745111_170619834_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLz9r24OnN7kK_79h9zJW7YCCl0whE33AXuDztSGl4LF-T6iV5JmHm5HDdl55IMQjvNDPcZK3E-6DoxBSGSlCmsTUsZWnAENejiYxV10jJJVgAJkU5uKyZp7-hV4zHpDGkm0ja_A71xHY/s200/995528_10153276595745111_170619834_n.jpg" width="182" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Celebrating the first birthday in Glasgow!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuFJl7Y4cVc7XZgs09CbZWfGAXmqjvPwqUwL3UITj50BgjqxBiv67Q4LxGOKwzQQkZKuXYwgiVE-kKGRVY9wcS1sE3YJjp49Klt2hCtX3AKs_MbA9llBFL73-vjMMROFCUhI6puglV2c/s1600/1375145_10100841816430084_719867772_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBuFJl7Y4cVc7XZgs09CbZWfGAXmqjvPwqUwL3UITj50BgjqxBiv67Q4LxGOKwzQQkZKuXYwgiVE-kKGRVY9wcS1sE3YJjp49Klt2hCtX3AKs_MbA9llBFL73-vjMMROFCUhI6puglV2c/s200/1375145_10100841816430084_719867772_n.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
But now for the part that more people are actually curious about- school.<br />
<br />
School. I don't like school. I probably never will, but when you are doing something that will lead you to the rest of your life, there will be a part of you that will secretly enjoy it.<br />
<br />
Basically it goes like this- our year is divided into 6 modules and we do each module one by one which comprises different topics like anatomy, physiology, chemistry, etc. We have very few assessments throughout the year which means it is in large part self directed and driven by self-motivation to complete the designated, non-graded tasks. But this means at the end of the year, we have a doozy of an exam which will be worth 80ish% of our mark. We also have practicals and rotations where we visit the Weipers (horse) center and farm and complete various skills like handling, sheep flipping, animal husbandry, etc. You get the gist. I can say that I was probably a little over-confident coming into this year, think "oh yea, I have a degree, this first year will be a review" and while some of it it, they cover it at such speed, it doesn't matter if you have a background in it or not, it is overwhelming. And like any other overwhelmed student, the homework piles up, the studying overcomes my life, and yet, we somehow still find time to go out every weekend. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixb2Q9MWEQmUFhbZLTVh4w2jNo9yq0mjjTFLRLCl9-Eq-Ytp-9u98cgYaKg8DNaJH2Iq7wCfWV0YyIlnnABASxvirue2Dlft8zL3_Z7FhxXS0Fj679qB85RX3Utzh6OQ8-3tVbptXGQNE/s1600/1056638_10153319012265111_868812532_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixb2Q9MWEQmUFhbZLTVh4w2jNo9yq0mjjTFLRLCl9-Eq-Ytp-9u98cgYaKg8DNaJH2Iq7wCfWV0YyIlnnABASxvirue2Dlft8zL3_Z7FhxXS0Fj679qB85RX3Utzh6OQ8-3tVbptXGQNE/s1600/1056638_10153319012265111_868812532_n.jpg" /></a>I should have known- they weren't lying when they said Glasgow students study hard and party harder (and for any of you that know me... I really don't party so this has been a major work in progress).<br />
<br />
The vet school is quite a close knot group of people who seem to know everything about everyone and do everything together. To date, we have already had several "vet school only" parties where everyone pretends to be best friends with everyone and then the next morning they all wear sunglasses and pretend to know no one.<br />
<br />
So basically, school is awesome, minus the actual bookwork.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMh7pQoOo9j86BzRJtQKQbXksz_bOUaprhdbxyRxIy3GOEW_CPWJ077r0Fo3wKzJv_IyaRIa3X6pQ4I3u6sVI_wAxLv-BzMbHRMAmsRLQzFpe_iZcFWfQwEoAs3wts_9DYs3xQLJjjjAg/s1600/1369202_10153321866860111_967680075_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMh7pQoOo9j86BzRJtQKQbXksz_bOUaprhdbxyRxIy3GOEW_CPWJ077r0Fo3wKzJv_IyaRIa3X6pQ4I3u6sVI_wAxLv-BzMbHRMAmsRLQzFpe_iZcFWfQwEoAs3wts_9DYs3xQLJjjjAg/s200/1369202_10153321866860111_967680075_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxk2_HJ3IbkL8o2ea2d34bBYmbMHOXWhiVxZFBVJTKoksl9sRakdSv0ENDfYyb5uiiCVfLX17hamNVC6FyKNocuqw8w8rZrJ78PBfOTQO3ERGL8pCEWMoVSUWzMZcOabCw4onQ0eUdsA/s1600/1374634_10153319020500111_1569787930_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxk2_HJ3IbkL8o2ea2d34bBYmbMHOXWhiVxZFBVJTKoksl9sRakdSv0ENDfYyb5uiiCVfLX17hamNVC6FyKNocuqw8w8rZrJ78PBfOTQO3ERGL8pCEWMoVSUWzMZcOabCw4onQ0eUdsA/s200/1374634_10153319020500111_1569787930_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>As for homesickness? I have not had a really bad stretch of it yet. Due in large part to that excellent group of people I have befriended and the fact that I was reluctant to actually SEE my family. Sure text and email gets you somewhere and keeps you in touch and makes you feel like you are actually with them at times but I finally caved and decided that it was time to see what my family looked like again. And so the inevitable FaceTime call from my Dad came it. Let's just say, Daddy's little girl was a mess of mascara by the end of the phone call. Then, I called Mamasita and Brother Bear and it was thankfully much more light-hearted. Mom wanted the 411 on everything: the people, the new place, school, the whole meal deal and I was more than happy to tell her because it was just nice to talk to someone. Brother was a joker as usual and gave me a play-by-play of the Price Is Right while I called and gave me a brief glimpse of the 2 fur babies I miss so much. <br />
<br />
So whats the plan for the future? So right now, we just finished our first module at are in a week of review and feedback. SO MUCH PAPERWORK. Thanksgiving is this weekend and Ainsley and I are hosting 20+ people in our itty bitty flat. Pot luck dinner and we are cooking 2 turkeys for the festivities. Several vet school parties are lined up and then the weekend after Halloween/first weekend in November is AVS which is the annual sporting weekend which takes place and all the UK vet schools get together and play each in sports and drink until they are blue int he face (or so I am told). This particular year, it is being hosted in Liverpool so we will be jumping on a bus and then heading in that direction for that weekend. Then there s the trip to Dublin the second weekend in November, American Thanksgiving being hosted by another couple in our group, and a trip to Amsterdam the weekend before coming home. <br />
<br />
I think it is safe to say, I will be sufficiently busy over the next couple of months before returning to Canadian soil DECEMBER 7th!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1V3amzjnqKllsaiBTqXND4NTJ1y0-1JvsXmkjh_-QHrNt6Neyt5n7PgNYn9tsan-UXpW-yd7EHrwZzxg7VjGyOs_Fi7DSb6I4YMkgxKKOETQUy7YwpzxPA0Eb0Vq-izXiTzT99GIvsC0/s1600/1385657_10153326996085111_161125535_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1V3amzjnqKllsaiBTqXND4NTJ1y0-1JvsXmkjh_-QHrNt6Neyt5n7PgNYn9tsan-UXpW-yd7EHrwZzxg7VjGyOs_Fi7DSb6I4YMkgxKKOETQUy7YwpzxPA0Eb0Vq-izXiTzT99GIvsC0/s200/1385657_10153326996085111_161125535_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a>When will I be blogging next? Not to sure. I am currently sitting in lecture listening to something that has something to do with something. Internet is still not at our flat. Long story short, Scottish people are in no rush to do anything (slower than Africans, which I learned when I was there, can be very slow) so we waited 3 weeks to get internet only to find out they did something wrong and we are now waiting for them to REBOOK the appointment which could be another 3 weeks from the day they notify us of the appointment. <br />
<br />
That's all for now.<br />
<br />
PS- since we now have a flat, we have room on our cough/futon for visitors.... *wink, wink*<br />
PPS- I need Crystal Light, Nalgene water bottle (they don't sell half decent water bottles?!), and Ranch (WHO DOESN'T LIKE RANCH). And coffee. You don't even know how hard it is to find real coffee... not that instant stuff. Grossssss.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-12628300408064340132013-09-14T03:05:00.001-06:002013-09-14T03:09:07.881-06:00Weekend 1- Everything is Going to be Alright!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We meet again!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This post is all about how I need to start exercising my liver for the coming 5 years but first, a quick recap.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Last 5 days of classes were all about orientation. Nothing heavy has started yet and so we have been eased into the motions by an assortment of lovely people, all with accents, only some from Scotland. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbKyRr2c1d-XdSK4nidC4O8Z6A08oQZTLOjtSr5GyfrUklyR3vvRrwC-T6qlpw4lxUVfSna4bL1ti3l_XkOdBhG7bv-bBDWhRzTOzOAOd9htmY2paek9suak2V3KMX-oEjrCRtR2Z5aA/s1600/night+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbKyRr2c1d-XdSK4nidC4O8Z6A08oQZTLOjtSr5GyfrUklyR3vvRrwC-T6qlpw4lxUVfSna4bL1ti3l_XkOdBhG7bv-bBDWhRzTOzOAOd9htmY2paek9suak2V3KMX-oEjrCRtR2Z5aA/s320/night+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">True and Honorary Canadian Clan</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
While I was loving everything about Scotland and being a student, I was miserable in residence. I like to think the only reason I was in residence is because I thought they said at the interview residence was mandatory for all first year international students. I was obviously at the wrong interview. So I landed in a hall, supposedly the destination for post-grads (I now believe this to be false... which I will have to use to my advantage in the next couple of weeks or so). The hall itself is dated, old, stinky, creaky, dark, and worn down. Really not my type of place. I expressed my overwhelming distaste to my parents when they moved me in but I promised I would try it and we had already paid for it, so there was that... </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I was miserable. I couldn't raise my arms in the shower because it was so small, I have 4 other roommates all older than I was and I didn't feel like I could cook or shower when I wanted to for fear of being to noisy because you can hear everything. So, I started stealthily looking for other places. And sure enough, 650 square feet of double bedroom glory found its way onto my computer. Ainsley and I agreed to move out if things worked out in our favour and it was all adding up.'</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sounds like a fairytale right? Wrong. Here is the catch. While we both signed residence contracts, we are allowed to get out of the contracts and sign early departure forms. However, we lose our deposit and are responsible for paying for our residence until a suitable replacement is found. It's a calculated risk you could say. So, sure enough, we found someone immediately to take over for Ainsley which was good because her place was the more expensive of the two rooms. Now, its my room left. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVsHXivdWnlP3OQKxmedcAUizl6BGn-ku2Ox6nZWBtIDvivC2xSLm7n4XK6K4W-AijX1y20M_GWpOPU0yf2ygqhPM-sX82nTZ69B-AX-P4qU2jE2x-re97ewUxo836paGV5qQIgduGC8/s1600/night+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVsHXivdWnlP3OQKxmedcAUizl6BGn-ku2Ox6nZWBtIDvivC2xSLm7n4XK6K4W-AijX1y20M_GWpOPU0yf2ygqhPM-sX82nTZ69B-AX-P4qU2jE2x-re97ewUxo836paGV5qQIgduGC8/s320/night+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "mature" group</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Long story short, Ainsley and I will be carrying two leases until someone moves into my place (which I am hoping and praying is ASAP) and we will be moving into our own place on Wednesday. SO EXCITING. Even better? This all came together on a Friday, which just so happened to be the first Friday of many more to come while attending vet school and also is the Friday in which all the youngins get "slaughtered" at the Student's Union. Not that I am opposed to getting a little wild, but I just wasn't feeling that venue.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, as all mature students do, myself and a group of others, planned out own night out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Stop 1: Hillhead Bookclub. Good music, good drinks, great energy. Basically a great place.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Stop 2: Uhhh, not sure. Don't think we actually got the name but we caught the last song of the live band and were there for last call (WHO CLOSES AT MIDNIGHT ON A FRIDAY!?)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Stop 3: The Sanctuary. My first club experience in Europe, and I have to say, it was awesome. Good music, great atmosphere... you get the idea.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My night as epic.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The cherry on top? The people I shared the night with! I had a great night, laughed until I cried, and can't wait to spend the next 5 years with this group.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So cheers new and forever friends (Mindy, Jessica, Ainsley, Devin, Ceara, Laura, Julia, Roxy, Nadia and Britany), many firsts, and the best 5 years of our life!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-70082973629406053382013-09-11T13:07:00.000-06:002013-09-11T13:07:10.150-06:00Day 3- Admitting You Have A Problem<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today is Day 3 in the life of a veterinary student. Well, sort of. The real deal doesn't start until Monday but I like pretending I am more important than I really am.<br />
<br />
Today was really nothing special. I was supposed to have a tuberculosis test done today which I was humming and hawing about for the last couple of days. Fun facts on the shot: it is a subcutaneous injection (which, if you read my last post, will hurt), that forms a big old ouchie lump that forms this potentially pus filled lump, which scabs and then scars. Beautiful, right? No. Thanks to the kind words of my Big Vet (whoever came up with the idea of the Big Vet/Wee Vet program should be given a medal because I would be lost without her) I chose not to get it. <br />
<br />
Reason 1: a gnarly scar. I hear things only go down once you hit 20 years old, so the less wrinkles and scars I have, the better. <br />
Reason 2: Canada can make things super inconvenient for you if they find out you have this shot and I am not about to lie to the government so apparently you have to go for health check ups every 6 months once you get this. That is not cool.<br />
Reason 3: Efficacy isn't proven, so why put an unnecessary hole in your arm?<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZUVK8Q0eZsb-eH_ZpoNAUjG3taCBtQKnbCeOJY_b8AWgZclB8V5DnmAvowzw9E68qYVv4WY6WRqpRtJvVZAowDSwaIknhG19y08r6UzpbDSz1eejOdaInwO16UQAdVotxWAWs8KbR_A/s1600/buchanan+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZUVK8Q0eZsb-eH_ZpoNAUjG3taCBtQKnbCeOJY_b8AWgZclB8V5DnmAvowzw9E68qYVv4WY6WRqpRtJvVZAowDSwaIknhG19y08r6UzpbDSz1eejOdaInwO16UQAdVotxWAWs8KbR_A/s320/buchanan+street.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buchanan Street AKA Style Mile</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then, a couple of my fellow vet students and I went to the city center, spent some money and came home. Don't worry mom and dad, I didn't buy anything but groceries... and a scarf. It was cold today!<br />
<br />
At home, I took comfort in a PBJ sandwich which satisfied my inner child and brought back oh so sweet memories of Victoria Falls. Then I settled my feet into my fuzzy slippers and set about writing this post.<br />
<br />
I swear, there is more hills here than there should be ANYWHERE. Cozy slippers are a blessing. It is uphill both ways. I am using this as an excuse not to work out and to purchase more slippers sometime in the near future.<br />
<br />
I guess I never really mentioned anything relating to a problem and thus, the reason behind the title. <br />
<br />
Problem 1: Residence sucks. It is literally uphill both ways. The walk may be long but I do not hate the length of the walk, just the exhaustion of climbing up and down hills and I can only imagine how such a walk uphill would be even less appealing after a real day of lectures. The flat is also stinky, noisy, creaky and dated. <br />
Possible solution 1: Transfer halls. Really unlikely because I am told there is a wait list for students to even get a spot, so moving is probably never going to happen. <br />
Possible solution 2: Rent a flat. It may mean I get disowned when I get home but, if it means I can shower whenever I want, it may be worth it (for the record, I am afraid to shower in the mornings because I don't want to disturb anyone because you hear EVERYTHING).<br />
Possible solution 3: Stop bitching. End of story. Likely the best option but I am pulling the diva card for today.<br />
<br />
Problem 2: Acquiring a bank card (and subsequently a phone contract) is like trying to catch a leprechaun. They are elusive and only available to the tenacious.<br />
Possible solution: Stop bitching, and wait. <br />
<br />
Problem 3: European style is much different than good-old North American style and being a poor, needy student, there is no funds to update and upgrade the wardrobe.<br />
Possible solution 1: Marry a prince or some variation of royalty. Again, the leprechaun analogy would probably apply here.<br />
Possible solution 2: Stop bitching.<br />
<br />
Problem 4: Tuberculosis shot- SOLVED<br />
Solution: Exercise your inner rebel and skip it.<br />
<br />
Fun Fact- it rained for the majority of the day and I busted out the Hunter umbrella today. I didn't wear my wellies which was not very intelligent, but I survived!<br />
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-9525414328906555112013-09-11T12:17:00.003-06:002013-09-11T12:17:31.815-06:00News flash<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Residence blows. Blog post over.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-89734629931938221332013-09-10T14:10:00.002-06:002013-09-11T12:47:17.104-06:00Day 1 and 2 of Vet School<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So apparently, blogging takes more time than I thought and I really dropped the ball the last couple of days as a tourist. So we will skip it because it was basically a whirlwind of shopping and setting up residence in Glasgow.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rIbxy0yp3qJBp4O9yiioPqJs3QjRuuVQyhUmvXO0JHyJtibG9BlkyPFsHoJDJuT8iH8wbuhiQhl0177YRn5RnzaCAb8sPLSBpdS5LkP9o6stvDR9lnpMpH5VOJKsRZh38Uow_GqJQsc/s1600/fam+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rIbxy0yp3qJBp4O9yiioPqJs3QjRuuVQyhUmvXO0JHyJtibG9BlkyPFsHoJDJuT8iH8wbuhiQhl0177YRn5RnzaCAb8sPLSBpdS5LkP9o6stvDR9lnpMpH5VOJKsRZh38Uow_GqJQsc/s320/fam+photo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family photo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So pre-day 1, Mom, Dad and Brandon left me at the hotel so they could drive back to Edinburgh to catch their flight home. Obviously there were plenty of tears everywhere and as they drove down our little street on their way home, I was a racoon-eyed mess. So I blubbered back to the room where I intended to cry myself back to sleep (it was 7am and I had tossed and turned during the night thinking about this) when I realized we were out of toilet paper. Better yet, no tissue. So here I am, terrifying myself in the mirror and I had already moved ALL of my belongings to residence so I had no way to fix my face. It was glorious. So as all emotional wrecks do, I threw on the clean pants and shirt I packed, tried to fix the mascara covering nearly every inch of my face, and began the short 5 minute walk back to my new home. <br />
<br />
Makes me sound really attractive, right?<br />
<br />
Truthfully, this immediate walk was probably best because it took my mind off of leaving my parents, and I calmed down and I settled into my room and organized my new space through out the day. At one point, I walked to the Tesco which was fine but thinking I was savvy, I took a shortcut home which really wasn't a short cut. Long story short, 20 minutes there, 70 minutes home. Damn.<br />
<br />
Day 1 was met after a restless sleep on my new terrible bed... what can I say, its not a pillow top but it will have to do. I woke up late since the only thing on the agenda was a mysterious health check and headed to the shower. Mid shower, I hear doors slamming, footsteps and other noise. Painting you the full picture, imagine a dorm with paper thin walls everywhere. So you hear people above, below and beside you and of course the people within your flat. So all this noise? Seemed like it could be coming from anywhere until I heard knocking on my shower door. So I finished up, thinking it was staff who were inventorying the space, I wrapped up in a towel and was met instead by my new roommate. <br />
<br />
This poor soul. I think she now things I'm crazy. I extend my hand to meet her, internally mortified I am meeting my first roommate in nothing more than a towel in a steamy doorway, and she quickly shakes it, doesn't tell me her name and says "I have to go back to reception". Yes, I bet you do. Tell them you have a freak for a roommate...<br />
<br />
Then I let Ainsley and her mom up, fellow Canadians who have a ringette connection and thus a golden spot in my heart, up to see my room as she was in another hall. hen her mom kindly carted us down to the main campus to check in with some very nice people who scanned our passports and visas and sent us on our merry way. We then took some photos of the main campus/pseduo Hogwarts and went to the health screen building. Here we were being tested for tuberculosis and to do so, then insert what they say is a small amount of liquid under the skin and they look for a reaction a few days later. Well, the liquid definitely feels like more than what they say it is, as it stretches and pulls at your skin. I now feel slightly bad for all those fat dogs and cats that had no SQ space and they get fluids and injections there... it hurts!<br />
<br />
We then strolled to the campus cafe, grabbed food and walked back to my residence where we met 3 others from the hall. Here we waited for a taxi which was going to be taking us to the Freshers meet and greet with the older vets at the Old School House. We thought we would arrive fashionably late... so we went for 3:45 when it started at 3 and everyone was already half drunk. Yay Scotland!<br />
<br />
You can really see where it all goes from here. Ainsley and I purchased a pitcher of drink, and speed drank it as lady-like as one can. Then, purchasing another pitcher, we took our spot at the table with some of the others where this underage girl tossed a penny into our brand new pitcher. Behind me I begin to hear roars of laughter, calling and yelling and am grabbed by one of the 5th years as he informs us we must "SAVE THE QUEEN!". This was my introduction to pennying. Someone throws a penny in your drink? Chug it to "save the queen". Crap. So two straws in the pitcher and Ainsley and I had to down our entire drink on the spot. <br />
<br />
Welcome to Scotland?!<br />
<br />
We left after our next drink and headed back to our respective homes and I headed to my room and called it a night.<br />
<br />
Day 2 was mercifully met by a better sleep. Early wake up call to meet a fellow hall mate for the walk to our destination for the day: the vet campus. 45 minutes later, we arrive and take our place in the lecture theatre where we are introduced to a variety of people who all seemed too kind for words and welcoming beyond belief. Lunch quickly came and went and then we went on a short whirlwind tour of the vet campus where many doors were pointed out and all forgotten (its like a maze there right now- or so it seems). We then had a little intro course to how to use the computer system we would become intimately involved with throughout the next 5 years and then it was back home via cab for 4 because the bus was going to be along in an hour and I was too knackered (I'll just through it new words for fun now) to walk.<br />
<br />
When I got home, I officially met my new roommate: Jean from Malaysia. Quite nice, but too jetlagged at the moment to be up for much conversation. Who can blame her?<br />
<br />
I then crawled into bed for what I pictured as a cat nap and nearly 3 hours later, I woke up and found myself here... bad planning on the nap part. Anywho, that's all I have to report for now. Tomorrow is my tuberculosis shot which I am dreading. If you know anything about if, it apparently is a slow release intramuscular injection which will form a lump, then a pustule on my arm and then scar. This scar is how then unofficially identify if you have had the shot before. I am really not up for the scar on my forearm so I was going to see if they suggest elsewhere... Don't think I want a lump on my butt for the next couple of weeks. </div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-70394594735302841142013-09-01T16:01:00.002-06:002013-09-11T12:48:22.852-06:00September 1- Going out with a BANG!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Our final full day in Edinburgh and what a day it was. <br />
<br />
We decided we should hit the streets early to get the most of our 24 hour Hop-On-Hop-Off ticket. This would allow us to ride in casual style to the stop closest to the castle which was our first destination for the day. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_0pQuqpCpBl4O0E_Y9T6oxJ4Zq2VjqYIvSpbDdjPNIVm_P7I6GUPwr5cy2NH2r_gMe2Wi5HiSWahQdeDWyo4arpsQDps7i4SM67oUTMtESt3WVBxECU8mOdXGndoBtRiwAXpQr3P_Ko/s1600/DSC_3624.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_0pQuqpCpBl4O0E_Y9T6oxJ4Zq2VjqYIvSpbDdjPNIVm_P7I6GUPwr5cy2NH2r_gMe2Wi5HiSWahQdeDWyo4arpsQDps7i4SM67oUTMtESt3WVBxECU8mOdXGndoBtRiwAXpQr3P_Ko/s320/DSC_3624.jpg" width="320" /></a>The Edinburgh castle stands on top of a giant cliff of volcanic rock and for the last 4 weeks it was the location of the Military Tattoo. Today, it was he location for thousands of fire works to be lined up which would be set off this evening to celebrate the end of the Edinburgh International festival. We took part in a guided tour which took us through the min grounds and introduced us to the locations we should explore further on our own. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I will be the first to admit I am not into history. Sure, I can appreciate some things, but then it just begins to run together for me and it all sounds the same. So needless to say, the castle was beautiful but you can only show me so many rooms and expect me to pay attention and actually gather something from it.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfxPHqLliRuv-i2OlJtDe1AvVvf_hEBGKhYMIbKeSP6LWx2sCRyYM77jTaJ1Zjbq6KnKUCt5vOxjDr-dkLSubRoHdW8CHxPrFMCCunlGikHdsJjdh0ElCwyWzoTi1j6Eepgsc62rioMA/s1600/File0348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfxPHqLliRuv-i2OlJtDe1AvVvf_hEBGKhYMIbKeSP6LWx2sCRyYM77jTaJ1Zjbq6KnKUCt5vOxjDr-dkLSubRoHdW8CHxPrFMCCunlGikHdsJjdh0ElCwyWzoTi1j6Eepgsc62rioMA/s320/File0348.jpg" width="320" /></a>So I'll keep this castle component short and sweet. We saw the castle, in all its glory, on an exceptionally windy day. We rode cannons, saw the family jewels, saw where the kept prisoners of war (which was not so bad relatively speaking- local men had it worse if they were brought back to the base), and so on.<br />
<br />
But 2 hours later, we saw all there was too see and we were sufficiently frozen so we headed to the only logical place where one should warm up- a pub. We then strolled on down back home for a little cat nap so that we could rest up for the big show this evening. As mentioned earlier, the official end of the festival was today and to celebrate there is a huge party. We are talking shut down the whole central park (the North Loch/ Princes Park), shut down tons of roads, hire tons of security and bring in all the local police, sell tickets to the park and so on. Then, the official end of the festival is marked by a one hour show of fire works played in tune to a world renowned orchestra.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZl-hv5D_1BeoFDKXuMn1GcU6_ZUdDhV5HokQNci4AQfuqFzWkxO6k-v2KjuUd07ZT99weWS5AQGDLL_wtVVGHepDav5MW94hy4k4n-52r60kOwK9yvdoa2CtD6bPkyP-RooN4RpfGWs/s1600/File0363.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZl-hv5D_1BeoFDKXuMn1GcU6_ZUdDhV5HokQNci4AQfuqFzWkxO6k-v2KjuUd07ZT99weWS5AQGDLL_wtVVGHepDav5MW94hy4k4n-52r60kOwK9yvdoa2CtD6bPkyP-RooN4RpfGWs/s320/File0363.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
So after our cat nap, we bundled up, and headed to the North Street Bridge, found a lovely restaurant serving delicious pizza and then walked into the city center to scout out the best location to view the fireworks from. Eventually it was decided that the best place to go would be back to the North Bridge so we turned around from where we were and started heading back against the crowd like a fish swimming up stream. Luckily, we found a great viewing place beside an older gentleman carrying a portable radio which was broadcasting the pieces the orchestra was playing so we could watching the fireworks as they were meant to be seen- in tune to the music. <br />
<br />
It was lovely. A great show, and unfortunately they just did not have the best weather for such a show. So after 2 ten minute long pieces we decided we would head back, having experienced some of the show and would try and watch the rest of the fireworks from our room, accompanied by the comfort of a blanket and furnace. <br />
<br />
But then disaster. Yes, disaster. We went to go look at all the pictures we took while at the castle and THEY WERE ALL GONE. Luckily, I am a magician and after paying a pretty penny for a recovery system online, we were able to recover the lost photos from the day and also all the photos we had taken since 2011. So here I am now, filtering through hundreds of photos from the last few years looking for the couple dozen we took today... sigh.<br />
<br />
Fun fact- tried sticky toffee pudding for the first time yesterday and it was divine. I spent all day today looking for another place to have it, but it seems like when you look very hard for something, you can never find it. Maybe I will casually stumble across it tomorrow.<br />
<br />
PS- photos don't seem to be loading... so no photos today!</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-45614820152025028302013-08-31T16:31:00.000-06:002013-09-14T03:05:47.593-06:00August 31- 6 Feet Under the Streets of Edinburgh<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_YZMwoB7wCNsu147omkKc_zeoGzRZBRbCzFtrRCEhnGhP0NujaCPNpeCHTqAiptzykz5g0Sm33XxbUZoh2lBddvruB_r3IbaTwavwHQj3SzaAuRHGcTG0G21OyteDNpqcCHlnCMrT4c/s1600/DSC_3458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_YZMwoB7wCNsu147omkKc_zeoGzRZBRbCzFtrRCEhnGhP0NujaCPNpeCHTqAiptzykz5g0Sm33XxbUZoh2lBddvruB_r3IbaTwavwHQj3SzaAuRHGcTG0G21OyteDNpqcCHlnCMrT4c/s200/DSC_3458.jpg" width="133" /></a>Aaaaand, we made it. Jet lag= over. Let the adventures begin!<br />
<br />
Today was our first full day in Scotland that wasn't plagued by jet-lag and so we set out to see the city in all its glory. <br />
<br />
We began by sleeping in, as we should, because we can. Then after much debate (seriously, only in the Williams family does our discussion of what we can do in a day become a lengthy discussion) we decided that we would do a Hop-On-Hop-Off bus tour of Edinburgh city center. This would be followed by a tour of Mary King's Close.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4-Bq7D5iLiwQxIFUyxQZ6Hdm3GI_mrdA9nuvoqA0e3ya3FimxYVx8OnA3k1io3lQtArLZJIMlvwI08KXrtWn6VzqcpUASv6AcfI9X-NZp5hTHpSw4g6swlFCTGolGmzrdSTjtADlFtU/s1600/DSC_3400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4-Bq7D5iLiwQxIFUyxQZ6Hdm3GI_mrdA9nuvoqA0e3ya3FimxYVx8OnA3k1io3lQtArLZJIMlvwI08KXrtWn6VzqcpUASv6AcfI9X-NZp5hTHpSw4g6swlFCTGolGmzrdSTjtADlFtU/s200/DSC_3400.jpg" width="132" /></a>So off we went. Beginning just down the street from our accommodations, we hopped on a double decker bus missing its top roof and set off to see the city. We passed over Waverley station: the train station that is where the North Loch used to be way back in the day, many houses that used to be home to many famous people (I don't remember any of their names), private gardens, beautiful architecture and the Royal Mile. After going around the route once we stopped at Waverly station which was located right near a spire that was the tallest monument erected to any author and was in honour of Sir Walter Scott. This particular monument has been the center of my attention since I have arrived in Edinburgh city center and have been itching to get a closer look. Architecturally beautiful, tall, made of dark material and ornamented with various creatures from Sir Scott's books, it draws attention from anyone and everyone within miles around. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtrfJ-Sk43TeI1rb2Nl_3AcJIFDNL2b8sKLiZAL7jykFfZ6yIS2Sl8eAcisSVv6qU2XS0amZDZnjnjYw3OROnM3zU9WrG6J_1vJtwJ9QSR5CLpIvL90NlqnQgBR1XLj-0oVp2vd8rBkeQ/s1600/selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtrfJ-Sk43TeI1rb2Nl_3AcJIFDNL2b8sKLiZAL7jykFfZ6yIS2Sl8eAcisSVv6qU2XS0amZDZnjnjYw3OROnM3zU9WrG6J_1vJtwJ9QSR5CLpIvL90NlqnQgBR1XLj-0oVp2vd8rBkeQ/s200/selfie.jpg" width="133" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgBVP1DlNS1luyNzmleq2Rehw0YA-8bCsFZnIJj1ViGarDcf-WfdZqCMBFG_wSrWADGKk-4qXdRLDFmY8p_SouqI0fkHepj8Qbi4h6JZXBdkjFTMC-3K4lz948UYETrO0UleuXjGYw6s/s1600/DSC_3433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgBVP1DlNS1luyNzmleq2Rehw0YA-8bCsFZnIJj1ViGarDcf-WfdZqCMBFG_wSrWADGKk-4qXdRLDFmY8p_SouqI0fkHepj8Qbi4h6JZXBdkjFTMC-3K4lz948UYETrO0UleuXjGYw6s/s200/DSC_3433.jpg" width="133" /></a>Obviously I climbed it... from the inside. 278 stairs of pure hell. The stairs were all in spiral staircase so there is a challenge in itself. I felt like I was in a blender. Better yet, the stairs only got narrower as you climbed, beginning about 3 foot wide and then narrowing to be the distance apart that my shoulders were. So as you can imagine, this made it difficult to pass people and you only pass those that are going in the opposite direction.<br />
<br />
After hugging the walls, my brother, dad and I finally made it to the top where we enjoyed a stunning view of the city where were could see the inlet and castle and lucky for us, we had a beautiful day without rain. Brandon and I captured some very flattering "selfies" from various levels and then eventually made our way down to where mom waited patiently (being scared of heights, this did not really appeal to her). <br />
<br />
We then hopped back on the bus and went to one of the other locations we had passed earlier on the bus which was called the Grass Market. The market had various street shops selling food products and numerous bars, of course. One of the local pubs was the White Hart Inn which is the oldest pub in Edinburgh. So it would only make sense that a location like this would sell haggis.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw40cBTc9Chm2bRvpshaBeGwNKRf-WBeON9wJKLxtoZhXzMSzYFXIuUNc4ZDgxox1hf4AWk9aEfLEA95U1KQrUvMCHyMiQuggk29S01g-PlFKkMlezUi3eOLbjxHXwJ9aRFqpAp1489v0/s1600/IMG_1763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw40cBTc9Chm2bRvpshaBeGwNKRf-WBeON9wJKLxtoZhXzMSzYFXIuUNc4ZDgxox1hf4AWk9aEfLEA95U1KQrUvMCHyMiQuggk29S01g-PlFKkMlezUi3eOLbjxHXwJ9aRFqpAp1489v0/s200/IMG_1763.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkF47CJ4DqxKYKguDhLsPUXc-8ycK2mElfFXTJOU3hAq0YFFQHOf6YZx__qVFSvboEHU-oCrKRIiFrJj1JvxqDSzK_kS1YcxTKjWO-wMz7uVtIOr-OwOkMCxBp5hE-4W7aEVLEM0Uc5Kw/s1600/IMG_1803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkF47CJ4DqxKYKguDhLsPUXc-8ycK2mElfFXTJOU3hAq0YFFQHOf6YZx__qVFSvboEHU-oCrKRIiFrJj1JvxqDSzK_kS1YcxTKjWO-wMz7uVtIOr-OwOkMCxBp5hE-4W7aEVLEM0Uc5Kw/s200/IMG_1803.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbeVznPzZvmAX3IoIXDGCqsX8jSm90SWKTp5fYfi_gSPMXQKbFrZoK5pUcO5l4xVBNEJeNvgZKYrCqHK6dGN48WAxW8Dx0jEVkZrUJ6rPtuCB3F3X_yZSkwGYf0uCGPz9NX0Azc9615Q/s1600/DSC_3463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbeVznPzZvmAX3IoIXDGCqsX8jSm90SWKTp5fYfi_gSPMXQKbFrZoK5pUcO5l4xVBNEJeNvgZKYrCqHK6dGN48WAxW8Dx0jEVkZrUJ6rPtuCB3F3X_yZSkwGYf0uCGPz9NX0Azc9615Q/s200/DSC_3463.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0QlNvOXfSZqhsLq65sNOa3bkag56TFnVeAz7luo8bojCC6dyqT5eTWiF3Azbna7-JJOx2_bCziZQ2nYOPXTJlYKDZOz1nrwTOWU5lbmTH0B75Ajhk-9ZVtsby9UzjiFPRnzLJ3ywmss/s1600/IMG_1783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0QlNvOXfSZqhsLq65sNOa3bkag56TFnVeAz7luo8bojCC6dyqT5eTWiF3Azbna7-JJOx2_bCziZQ2nYOPXTJlYKDZOz1nrwTOWU5lbmTH0B75Ajhk-9ZVtsby9UzjiFPRnzLJ3ywmss/s200/IMG_1783.jpg" width="133" /></a>If you remember before I left, the one thing I said over and over was that I WOULD NOT EAT HAGGIS. I would be a vegetarian before I had haggis. Well, I didn't make it very far into my trip before I was coerced to try it. And let me tell you, it wasn't purge-worthy but I will not be eating it again. I had enough to try it and realized that yes, haggis does in fact have the texture of sheep stomach and other miscellaneous items and yes, sheep stomach was all I could think about while eating it.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbR53Q6p7fgCDGY6g2R2cFaF4wJlfEbXcmhqDLLt46wXywevXQ81soQYo6NwaiYW0wKGuLWJ2kYzdwTTWqfLyp_gF19-EzkZGUn5iDFdcH1d9-HnxhyDJRJpVyBuDPBm3PXyj6XjGJuvM/s1600/IMG_1845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbR53Q6p7fgCDGY6g2R2cFaF4wJlfEbXcmhqDLLt46wXywevXQ81soQYo6NwaiYW0wKGuLWJ2kYzdwTTWqfLyp_gF19-EzkZGUn5iDFdcH1d9-HnxhyDJRJpVyBuDPBm3PXyj6XjGJuvM/s200/IMG_1845.jpg" width="133" /></a>After having my interesting meal, it was back on the bus and to Mary King Close which is a location right off the Royal Mile. Mary King's Close is named after Mary King and is 6 feet (actually more) under the streets of Edinburgh. The story starts way back in the day, and I am talking 1550-1650's, when Edinburgh streets were lower than they are now. They had basements and buildings up to 8 stories high. The lower income people were lower in the buildings and high income people were higher. As time passed, Edinburgh was more and more populated and this city center was prime real estate for larger buildings and eventually it was decided to knock all these buildings down.. However, they did not knock them down completely because Edinburgh was built on hillsides and to make it easier, they knocked down buildings anywhere between the basement or 2nd floor. This allowed them to make the streets more level and allow for us to explore this underground piece of history. <br />
<br />
Once returning to the light of day, we made our way back to the hotel, caught a cat nap and went for dinner...<br />
<br />
Forgive me, I'm a very large glass of wine deep into this post and if you know me well enough to know what my alcohol tolerance is, then it will explain why I am rambling and probably making a fool of myself in this post. But you get the gist.<br />
<br />
After dinner, it was back to the comfort of our Aparthotel where I am currently accompanied by 3 sleepy family members and 2 large cameras while I type furiously on my computer.<br />
<br />
Good night to you all, and fun fact to leave you with: I did not bring enough sweaters. This is know already 2 days in. So when you come visit, bring a suitcase of sweaters for you and I to share!</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-78063334483346698732013-08-30T13:19:00.000-06:002013-09-11T12:31:21.446-06:00August 29/30- HELLO SCOTLAND<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Well the fateful day has finally arrived and after months of preparation, applications, fretting, waiting, deciding, packing and other eventful things, I collected my dearest belongings in 3 large suitcases to move to Scotland to pursue my dream of becoming a veterinarian. I won't bore you with details but I will give you the gist of what occurred over the last 24-36 hours (depending on how you count with time change and all that jazz). <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5XkR_Z17iLU-cdIz2By96piLxhzwdMdCe6TZvUsBotWespqUsVb5cEqZStdZ1CH9BOaa3pGN9D3ViYvVwJtJxppGZue1Ktz-5fZANN1L64MogZkbIDR7xeRy5AsIsbNxMs8lNh92uclA/s1600/IMG_2502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5XkR_Z17iLU-cdIz2By96piLxhzwdMdCe6TZvUsBotWespqUsVb5cEqZStdZ1CH9BOaa3pGN9D3ViYvVwJtJxppGZue1Ktz-5fZANN1L64MogZkbIDR7xeRy5AsIsbNxMs8lNh92uclA/s320/IMG_2502.jpg" width="240" /></a>We began by artfully packing the back of the vehicle with 6 large suitcases and making our way to the airport for a first flight which would connect in Toronto which would then allow us to catch our second and final flight to Edinburgh, Scotland. All flights went without a hitch, with the exception of turbulence at the most inopportune times which was always when I would begin to drift off. <br />
<br />
My first sight of Scotland was one of cloud which seems appropriate given that it is normally overcast and often raining here. Eventually we broke through the low cloud and landed in my new plush, green surroundings. We collected our goods and made our way to the rental car area. <br />
<br />
Fun fact: renting a car is fun, you can chose whatever you want, sometimes nicer than what you have at home and go for a little joy ride. What is not fun is that in Europe the vehicle is right-hand drive and is driven on the left side of the vehicle so that makes for an interesting first ride... lots of cussing, hiding and pointing in random directions. <br />
<br />
We did eventually arrive at our home for the next 3 nights. We are currently inhabiting a 2 bedroom apartment called Holyrood Aparthotel. This particular hotel is just off the Golden Mile which is a stretch of famous roadway just down from the castle in Edinburgh and is home to many shops and restaurants, and obviously, bars. <br />
<br />
After unloading our bags, Mama-sita and I had a cat nap while the boys ventured out to investigate our immediate surroundings. Two short hours later we were rested, groomed and ready to take on the Golden Mile.<br />
<br />
My main goal for this trip was acquiring a new straightener and blow dryer. For anyone who knows me, I MUST have quality hair products and tools. So I set out for GHD products. This is harder than you would think and what should have been a 15 minute walk ended up consuming most of our afternoon. However, our mission did allow us the opportunity to take some photos of the stunning architecture. I will confess to loving architecture but I know nothing about it, have no idea what things mean, and cannot appreciate the values in these buildings except for what they offer at face value. Needless to say, I have more photos of buildings than I care to admit (this is why there is no pictures of my family yet on my camera- because the buildings are prettier...).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9ne7vSvm05__GrCBEgTqv8fBh5rqHfBrFxeNyRTP5n9k-3fqxvf9EDP4YpNFrQVmgaYR2UmZP_ugmuG4x5xgM6oAvmuzqHVmcaT3f6p6VypegV9qO770TaBdp7Z-CcAveoF7ueGzaOI/s1600/IMG_1676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9ne7vSvm05__GrCBEgTqv8fBh5rqHfBrFxeNyRTP5n9k-3fqxvf9EDP4YpNFrQVmgaYR2UmZP_ugmuG4x5xgM6oAvmuzqHVmcaT3f6p6VypegV9qO770TaBdp7Z-CcAveoF7ueGzaOI/s320/IMG_1676.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
We did stop into several bars looking for somewhere to settle in to have our first official Scottish meal and we settled for the Amber Room which housed 300+ bottles of whiskey and had some local cuisine including lamb (my first experience eating lamb was in fact this afternoon, and it wasn't bad... although I don't like the though of eating Little Bo Peep's sheep). <br />
<br />
Satisfied and full, we started our trek back to the hotel, detouring to various salons on the way to track down the elusive GHD hair styling tools and arrived at the John Lewis department store which is much like a Bay or Nordstroms in North America. Products in tow, we continued onwards home and arrived at a close mini-grocery store to get some snacks and then made our way to our 6th floor apartment with swollen feet and heavy eye lids. <br />
<br />
And that's where we are now. We have all struggled to stay awake for the last hour so we could get a decent nights sleep and wake at a normal time. And so I bid you good evening (or good day depending on where you are reading from) and I'll be in touch soon, perhaps with photos... only if I am ambitious!<br />
<br />
PS- to my many North American friends, family and colleagues, I miss you already. It has been a shock of a day and it is going to take some time to get used to the lifestyle here but I am excited for the journey but even more excited to come home and share my new found knowledge with you all.<br />
<br />
PPS- this girl loves company sooooo if you are itching for a European adventure, I hear Scotland is pretty nice and I think I may just be able to make time to be your personal tour guide!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-17736027720962914902013-02-09T10:10:00.001-07:002013-08-30T12:52:41.833-06:00I AM GOING TO BE A VET<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I had the best day of my recent life on Thursday. Earlier that day, we had a lab where we were working with cockroaches. I had bugs and the creep crawly things that have more than 4 legs and lack fur (basically anything other than a mammal, reptile or bird).<br /><br />Feeling sorry for myself for having to spend the better part of my morning in a room filled with cockroaches I went to pick up some groceries so I could settle in with a nice cup of tea while doing homework and forget about the creepy-crawly terrors from before. As I am walking through the store, pushing my cart, I get an email. Since I was just casually strolling through the isles, I decided to read it because it was from the Admissions Director of Glasgow University. Thinking that she needed an other copy of my transcripts or a new passport photos because the one I had given then may have scared them to much, I skimmed through it and literally stopped in my tracks.<br />
<br />
The email, which is one I will never forget, was inviting me to study at the University of Glasgow beginning September 2013. <br />
<br />
I started to cry, by myself, in the isles of a grocery store. I looked every bit as crazy as I felt. <br />
<br />
It was surreal.<br />
<br />
I never though it would happen.<br />
<br />
All of a sudden, it finally hits me that the thing I have wanted for the last 22 years of my life was going to become a reality. I, Justine Williams, was going to be a veterinarian in 5 short years. <br />
<br />
Crazy, right? Yes. The relief I felt knowing that I wouldn't have to re-enroll for school at the University of Calgary to continue working on an undergraduate degree or intentionally seek out experience I had not yet had, to know that my future was secure, was a relief I cannot explain. Add to the relief, the overwhelming sense of pride (I HAD DONE IT), shock and joy... well I wonder how I actually was able to stand on my own 2 feet.<br />
<br />
So I am purposefully giving myself a pat on the back for all the hard work I have done to get here, thanking my lucky stars, bosses and references for getting me to the place I am today, and sending positive vibes to all those people who think that it is impossible to follow your dreams. Let me tell you, I may not have been the most academic, or had the most experience, and truthfully probably not the best applicant they had ever seen, but once you have your foot in the door (the interview), all you need to prove is your passion. it may have taken me 21 years to get my foot in the vet door and 3 years of attempting to get an interview, but it happened, and look where I am now!<br />
<br />
Happy days!</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-91514121892938947412012-12-14T18:50:00.001-07:002012-12-14T18:50:28.945-07:00Photo Friday- The Island Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0WceiCVpS7rlgixR5p8-z82wOWFAshkKWimQBZ4TRNzQoK2zgB_OWuQHmUwXeFMx1MuE0dj5wO9GOThzdm3HaztarJga540MPosqvspq_4d3aIp8h7P7IGdkwHD-ePEGpLKO72TSm98/s1600/week+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0WceiCVpS7rlgixR5p8-z82wOWFAshkKWimQBZ4TRNzQoK2zgB_OWuQHmUwXeFMx1MuE0dj5wO9GOThzdm3HaztarJga540MPosqvspq_4d3aIp8h7P7IGdkwHD-ePEGpLKO72TSm98/s640/week+7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-37101680324890771602012-12-07T11:19:00.000-07:002012-12-07T11:19:06.173-07:00Photo Friday- Field on Fire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXjfKhe6L3mEXIZVH8jOHZ_JdYWZjovYH7PJfQn3Dt_DYpCIhWMxhku2OMbtOHwpAsQNaBL80mO6ByC44cdf9pPyUeJEJxKmBO_ptqXWjVXWat5MVK513r1zzRth9jqOosc473ov0RGU/s1600/week+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXjfKhe6L3mEXIZVH8jOHZ_JdYWZjovYH7PJfQn3Dt_DYpCIhWMxhku2OMbtOHwpAsQNaBL80mO6ByC44cdf9pPyUeJEJxKmBO_ptqXWjVXWat5MVK513r1zzRth9jqOosc473ov0RGU/s640/week+6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-9290074538792924222012-12-04T10:15:00.001-07:002012-12-04T10:15:22.742-07:00I have not forgot about blogging!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It has been exactly one month (say what?!) since my last blog post about my travels in Zimbabwe. I have not forgot about blogging and my little diary of events is burning a hole in my brain, just begging to be blogged about. However, as my fellow bloggers will understand, blogging takes more time than one would think!<br /><br />So hang in there, be patient with me, and once the chaos of final exams dies (December 19th), I will be back in business posting about the lovely country of Zim.<br />
<br />
xoxo</div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-81645901423914544472012-11-30T11:27:00.000-07:002012-11-30T11:27:32.711-07:00Photo Friday- Autumn at the Lake<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Bvq1fXkMPbhIj8NIOoCy_qTTfa8zp3PkVbl7WDJt3amZgWU_eBcVZU3AFjpgzswyJzaLUH5RG10Xdfv8xaJDXDnoI8S49qnft9ICPqQMiX9p4mqgscakToV3jlXZUCVg3yJjRl91Mno/s1600/week+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Bvq1fXkMPbhIj8NIOoCy_qTTfa8zp3PkVbl7WDJt3amZgWU_eBcVZU3AFjpgzswyJzaLUH5RG10Xdfv8xaJDXDnoI8S49qnft9ICPqQMiX9p4mqgscakToV3jlXZUCVg3yJjRl91Mno/s640/week+5.jpg" width="428" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-5065242392209448272012-11-23T11:06:00.000-07:002012-11-23T11:06:02.146-07:00Photo Friday- Pride Rock (Ngamo Style)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJ669273Ea9p51L1iVFe3zROAVHYcrzBeZo9m94wj8gZsaNwjUivSA4evv-6HAYyUwiUC8KlxaDHoLXCtSHm7RBEJhDnuf9ccjb-NA3Q65m5YIN_Dz0yudUjajaGI9BWBep-Zji4DKSc/s1600/week+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCJ669273Ea9p51L1iVFe3zROAVHYcrzBeZo9m94wj8gZsaNwjUivSA4evv-6HAYyUwiUC8KlxaDHoLXCtSHm7RBEJhDnuf9ccjb-NA3Q65m5YIN_Dz0yudUjajaGI9BWBep-Zji4DKSc/s640/week+4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-59460525583030399772012-11-18T12:26:00.001-07:002012-11-18T12:26:28.662-07:00Happy 2nd Birthday Little Lewa!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGTOrXw2xcZDj5LPn07s0eg9nBTF7BP1ljDz72I82Bm-mkSsj9mH4-Bg8qMoijkMbXS3tBlmv48yYaVVVd2xL9AG5HVPo3HFM4nNXquFjjGDL9BXWyDN048x4sGX6IqBi9ZJ6QfBONQg/s1600/lewa's+birthday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGTOrXw2xcZDj5LPn07s0eg9nBTF7BP1ljDz72I82Bm-mkSsj9mH4-Bg8qMoijkMbXS3tBlmv48yYaVVVd2xL9AG5HVPo3HFM4nNXquFjjGDL9BXWyDN048x4sGX6IqBi9ZJ6QfBONQg/s640/lewa's+birthday.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjib9fvQ35mNW1e4U8G01T2ABxFXvvjaDP5VwkDg9A4-cARWGagWNCHEMTQFjFrWfrwVb4nQjvax4tJyvHFsiVIW9d29istlTNjwXP3WMbK-XcxHlYK71XcFgADLFTrUYNXJKJFxGA8qUg/s1600/DSC_1733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjib9fvQ35mNW1e4U8G01T2ABxFXvvjaDP5VwkDg9A4-cARWGagWNCHEMTQFjFrWfrwVb4nQjvax4tJyvHFsiVIW9d29istlTNjwXP3WMbK-XcxHlYK71XcFgADLFTrUYNXJKJFxGA8qUg/s640/DSC_1733.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-60776818324472955302012-11-16T07:26:00.000-07:002012-11-16T07:26:32.317-07:00Photo Friday- Elephants at Twilight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJ5-5mSK3n9AJMwZE0U3XFbX8WGJbHMWIdnQp6MC7c-DwJ_LVfy9lJfU84KpqOdzinZFTBlWQrbmcH8sN-tHX9lK2VkJhx4z0B7YPpUxrIgAvcZHpagrv0aVldYFD-gF6ZgAeK9ZXgcw/s1600/week+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXJ5-5mSK3n9AJMwZE0U3XFbX8WGJbHMWIdnQp6MC7c-DwJ_LVfy9lJfU84KpqOdzinZFTBlWQrbmcH8sN-tHX9lK2VkJhx4z0B7YPpUxrIgAvcZHpagrv0aVldYFD-gF6ZgAeK9ZXgcw/s640/week+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-18479229757746326932012-11-09T07:38:00.001-07:002012-11-09T07:38:27.883-07:00Photo Friday- Puff Adder at Hwange <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPsqw86GY-DsBDySnEhCYitrQ7hLq4iQnzMivHhTnuJKXiEeJbuV8aoZwUMzjh98J2RqtDqDmwOr4Cs2kruJvOh1g_FoX4JYDLAeXqffSuDHGBtf9bjzdgJZFcoO7J0bC1xfeBSJymEA/s1600/week+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzPsqw86GY-DsBDySnEhCYitrQ7hLq4iQnzMivHhTnuJKXiEeJbuV8aoZwUMzjh98J2RqtDqDmwOr4Cs2kruJvOh1g_FoX4JYDLAeXqffSuDHGBtf9bjzdgJZFcoO7J0bC1xfeBSJymEA/s640/week+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-490280376050892251.post-49456601587110924602012-11-04T09:34:00.004-07:002012-11-04T09:38:42.052-07:00Friday May 25- Darting Lions Round 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The day previous had been exceptional as I never thought I would ever have the opportunity to stand next to a full grown lion without the protection of a chain link fence between me and its giant nails. But today brought even more surprises. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAR6TDSr5mw-pZ0nJs4UCXjGs0GW0tO2ljz42wGnmy9LCbwMsxpxi-a1XY4D1cLtyEQgWaISRrFs79dO1VmBpJF-ctCbRcXfsFL_QElvUUetrCzmwAfBAD2v-kvym5ttALjr2qAG1Fdg/s1600/DSC_1421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAR6TDSr5mw-pZ0nJs4UCXjGs0GW0tO2ljz42wGnmy9LCbwMsxpxi-a1XY4D1cLtyEQgWaISRrFs79dO1VmBpJF-ctCbRcXfsFL_QElvUUetrCzmwAfBAD2v-kvym5ttALjr2qAG1Fdg/s320/DSC_1421.jpg" width="320" /></a>Antelope Park houses infant, adolescent and adult lions, and as with humans, not all of them are 100% healthy. FIV, which is the feline equivalent of HIV is transmitted through saliva and compromises the immune system, and is present in some of the lions at the park. However, Antelope Park does there best to limit the spread of disease to the healthy lions, however, if it suspected that a lion may have been in contact with an infected lion, all suspected lions are tested for the virus. In our case, there were 6 lions who lived together, 2 females and 4 males, that had potentially been in contact with an infected lion before it was known that the lion had been infected. As a precaution, they were going to draw blood samples to test for the presence of FIV, and the staff of Antelope Park enlisted the help of the volunteers!<br />
<br />
So instead of making our way o the cages of the P's and L's in the morning, we loaded into my favourite chariot, had naother African massage, and arrived at an enclosure near the back of the breeding program. There we met Leigh-Ann and some lion handlers (AKA the muscle), and couple of interns. The plan was divide the volunteers into groups of 3, producing 6 groups, and within each group one person would monitor temperature, another would monitor respiration and another would record the vital signs. Then each group would wait for their respective lion to be darted, and begin recording once the lion was sedate enough. <br />
<br />
As with the Gumtree Boys, the lions were divided into two groups, moving the lions to be tranquilized into the holding enclosure ad moving the other 3 lions into the neighbouring enclosure.<br />
<br />
We were not the part of the first group of lions to be darted so we stood by and observed as people went in and sat with their lions monitored the 2 females and 1 males. Once those lions were awake and alert, they were moved into an enclosure, and the next group of lions were moved into the holding enclosure. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvp1CqGgpOty-Z5RXbXgfcLbPq_U2mJA5X7inThzxAfxOtIRBWYMaTCCh3HwS0KCFxkcOjyVdEYZEPkJ0FAXyWrseJ7Y886fJojVGslXyFqiLvDhx0-9-MOyAQj5P-P17ubLFvDSEegk/s1600/IMG_1061+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvp1CqGgpOty-Z5RXbXgfcLbPq_U2mJA5X7inThzxAfxOtIRBWYMaTCCh3HwS0KCFxkcOjyVdEYZEPkJ0FAXyWrseJ7Y886fJojVGslXyFqiLvDhx0-9-MOyAQj5P-P17ubLFvDSEegk/s320/IMG_1061+2.JPG" width="320" /></a>The last 3 lions were all males, with full manes, raging hormones and giant heads (seriously, enormous- I am surprised the don't topple over with them). Alex, Stephanie (a girl from the USA) and myself waited outside the enclosure until all 3 remaining lions had been tranquilized, including our soon to be pet kitty, Mvuthu. Mvuthu was the first to be darted and he wobbled around until he collapsed under his own weight and waited until his buddies fell as well. <br />
<br />
Once they were all sedate, the muscle moved in an put the lions onto stretchers and moved them out into the more open section of the enclosure, where it would be easier to work with the lions. The issue with sedating lions is that the tranquilizer, as with any anesthetic, is time sensitive. With any anesthetic, you want the animal to be sedate for as little time as possible, and depending on the anesthetic, it can wear off or start not doing exactly what it is supposed to after a certain period of time. This particular tranquilizer was good for 1.5 hours, meaning it should be reversed within that time frame, otherwise it can have adverse effects on the lions. <br />
<br />
Since Mvuthu was the first down, and the closest to the exit of the holding enclosure we was the fist out, and consequently last in line, when it came to order of having blood drawn. The 3 of us girls sat with our lions and investigated him while Leigh-Ann worked with another lion, trying to find a vein, while another intern worked with the other lion, also looking for a vein to draw blood from. As we kept our lion company, we spray his ears with wound spray, examined his enormous teeth (including the frightening canine teeth) and his razor sharp claws. I don't know how to accurately convey the extent of a full grown lions presence, even sedate. I sat with Mvuthu's paw in my lap, and his paw alone was bigger than my hand. His mane was full and thick and no matter how hard I tried to wriggle my fingers to reach his neck, I could not actually get through his mane. He had a mouth full of teeth which are used to shred animals with ease, and here I was pulling at his gums and investigating these weapons. Every breath he took was powerful, even under the influence of a heavy tranquilizer, but still, we sat around him, laying on his chest, like he was just a big fluffy pillow that could potentially rip your limb off if it was under any other circumstance. But there was no other place I would have rather been!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0FMFwih9HJNxndDT5Z2eIz0tIY0_Bnx2PkXwNgUm3ve3_w2Jx7GdmKTivYfq43VajUaQg1kfgdSSkjGzAtM3Fn-WV-r9cLYiOdDfxex1bQJxfOQ9aocKgu3jutBMTndJ7KXxl0pDo_e0/s1600/DSC_1427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0FMFwih9HJNxndDT5Z2eIz0tIY0_Bnx2PkXwNgUm3ve3_w2Jx7GdmKTivYfq43VajUaQg1kfgdSSkjGzAtM3Fn-WV-r9cLYiOdDfxex1bQJxfOQ9aocKgu3jutBMTndJ7KXxl0pDo_e0/s320/DSC_1427.jpg" width="320" /></a>Eventually, they began to pull blood from Mvuthu, which took some time because finding a vein in a hind leg of a lion is easier said than done. When the lions had all had their blood collected, we waited again and Leigh-Ann moved through the lions, again hunting for a vein to inject the reversal into Once the lions had been reversed, the quickly loaded the lions onto the stretcher, and moved them back into the holding area so that they could wake up without being investigated by their now very alert cage mates. Just as they were moving the final lion into the holding enclosure, and positioning him appropriately, one of the lions surprised us all and staggered to his feet much before we expected. Needless to say, "the muscle" got out of their quick because a cranky lion was not something they wanted to mess with this early in the morning.<br />
<br />
Once all the lions were on their feet, we let them all back into the enclosure where they started and waited until they were completely alert and walking a little less like the were under the influence. Mvuthu, confused, walked along the fence lions and stumbled between Alex and it with big, drunk eyes, looking at us like he was waiting or an explanation to why he woke up wet (because we soaked him to keep his body temperature down).<br />
<br />
Satisfied with our work, we went back to camp. Having missed the entire first section, breakfast, morning break and a good portion fo the second section of volunteer activities Alex and I went to the stables and made horse food. Having achieved pro-status at making horse food, we were able to pour, soak, mix, pack and deliver horse food in record time, leaving us ample time to go and sit by the river before lunch.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_bbKGLChw5J-tnDnZ1bLZjCkRAXVpaEwJOYgUzeJBfoB21ooZmCFWEI1m2oqcmswwCw3MUI-kKR_ghUtcJXZtchHCsqCwC3xXAbJjv0qSAWlMOwAG57s6XGy5bVq7FeMtbDe8JKdJ3s/s1600/IMG_0441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_bbKGLChw5J-tnDnZ1bLZjCkRAXVpaEwJOYgUzeJBfoB21ooZmCFWEI1m2oqcmswwCw3MUI-kKR_ghUtcJXZtchHCsqCwC3xXAbJjv0qSAWlMOwAG57s6XGy5bVq7FeMtbDe8JKdJ3s/s320/IMG_0441.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Following we were scheduled for another elephant ride. Since our first elephant ride in the first week arrived, we had made trips back to the elephants to visit Colin and the elephants to work on our Shona. However, we were naive to how little time there was to visit and of course, everyone including the elephants has their own schedule during the day, so our trips often did not work.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, I was looking forward to our elephant ride because it meant that I could pick Colin's brain for a full hour. So we climbed the platform, hopped onto the back of Cheebi and led the way, followed by Amai, Checha and Tombi.<br />
<br />
Truthfully, I am terrible at learning a second language. I tried in elementary and junior high, and at the beginning of each year, it was like I had never seen a French textbook before. Then in high school I learned Spanish for a year (I got 100% on the final!) but ask me now to say something and all I can say is "2 beers please". So, learning Shona was a task and I still know how to say a couple of words but I would have no hope at spelling them... so to save myself from embarrassment if you want to know how to say hello or lion in Shona, come find me in person.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6O5OcpWKrlWKEbpGU5jEHMqNwr9HFQlZ_tMcP6g43R2KnaTwBRweYf8JHPup_rzmbo36fjtqCSrYMqX_enrfrBgWHrvhZcJG7KBad2z-Rzv4-1aoIA1zlvyIF9jyfkrSrOoBHzVGaeBM/s1600/IMG_0444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6O5OcpWKrlWKEbpGU5jEHMqNwr9HFQlZ_tMcP6g43R2KnaTwBRweYf8JHPup_rzmbo36fjtqCSrYMqX_enrfrBgWHrvhZcJG7KBad2z-Rzv4-1aoIA1zlvyIF9jyfkrSrOoBHzVGaeBM/s320/IMG_0444.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
After our ride, we had a little down time because the elephant ride is the shortest of the activities and does not fill up all of the time allotted. So we changed into evening appropriate clothes, visited Charlaaaaaay, Anti-Christ and the other cats (can you believe they had a cat called Anti-Christ?! Best. Name. Ever.) and then waited for our walk with the big cats.<br />
<br />
We were soon met by the rest of the volunteers and split up into our groups. I headed off with a small group towards the enclosure of the L's and waited by the enclosure for the group of tourists that was expected to join us. Sure enough, Iri (I am not sure of the spelling of his name) led a group of tourists towards the enclosure where he explained the purpose of the walks, a bit about Laili and Lewa, what we as ecotourists were doing here, and then he introduced the volunteers as Justine and crew. <br />
<br />
Apparently I am a big deal. Kidding. But Iri was one of the first people we met in our overwhelming first day at Antelope Park and he showed us around the Park and made sure we settled in. But his position often consisted of him hosting to the tourists and informing people about the project so we did not see him often, but when we did, he remembered me. How sweet!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdw5-HcExPWVfNnueIlhvVHEKslXGduXgsNf0gnZym8SP2_6ztFx5hxUvIupyai1E1RcYL_9T13tyv10RNH_nUFF4tgaMgSJ1oTGLbnostFMbiDibdzO7vkBxcRfu7yAnATFWAHpXJKc/s1600/IMG_1118+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdw5-HcExPWVfNnueIlhvVHEKslXGduXgsNf0gnZym8SP2_6ztFx5hxUvIupyai1E1RcYL_9T13tyv10RNH_nUFF4tgaMgSJ1oTGLbnostFMbiDibdzO7vkBxcRfu7yAnATFWAHpXJKc/s320/IMG_1118+2.JPG" width="320" /></a>As if on cue, the lions were let our of their enclosure and immediately Lewa came directly towards me, much to the surprised of the tourists, and gave me a bit kitty greeting. <br />
<br />
There are few things quite as surreal or special as being greeted by a lion, knowing that they know who you are and that they trust you enough to come back to you. <br />
<br />
Long story short, the walk was great because Lewa obviously felt comfortable with the volunteers and myself and kept coming by and rubbing against us as if she was making sure we were still there.<br />
<br />
Oh, I miss those kitties!<br />
<br /></div>
Justine Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04348593284449695788noreply@blogger.com0