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My May-December Romance

August 15th, 2011

LeeAnn

Did I get your attention with this title? I promised myself that I would be honest on this blog. So, here goes…

If you know me and my husband, my guess is that you know that there is an age difference. How much? My husband will tell you exactly. I am a little more protective of the information. I am not sure why. Suffice it to say that the age difference is less than Micheal Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones, but more than Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher.

People often ask me if the age difference bothers me. It does not. On a day-to-day basis, I forget about it. My husband and I are both very physically active. We exercise together and we take athletic vacations. We spend the vast majority of our time together as we like to do the same things. We share a love for animals. We balance each other well. I am emotional; he is more rational. Little things drive him crazy, while I am much more patient. Big things upset me; he is much more calm in such situations.

When someone forces me to, I remember the age difference. We had a summer associate in our law firm that asked me (and I was hiring partner at the time) if my husband (who, by the way, is also a partner at the law firm) was my father. I kind of felt sorry for him. I was nice to him about it, but it really did make me question his overall judgment for saying something so ~~stupid~~ risky. I did not mention it to anyone else though, so it had nothing to do with his not getting an offer. Apparently, he really did have poor judgment – or was an idiot (or both).

There are so many incredible positives of our relationship. Many of them are the same as those in any good marriage and have nothing to do with the age difference. For purposes of this blog, I will focus on the top three that I believe relate to the age difference:

1. Sorry guys, but you mature way later than us females. I think that is a scientific fact. And many of you do really stupid things before you mature. By the time my husband and I started dating, he had all of those things behind him.

2. My husband has more life experiences than I have. He was married before and he knows what he wants out of a marriage and how to work at it. He has been working longer than I have and has weathered the ups and downs of working life and can help me through them.

3. Sorry, this one may be a little vain – but as I am getting into middle-age, it is really nice to feel young in the relationship. There is a lot of pressure on women in our society. Whereas many of my friends worry about their wrinkles and the aging process – I do not. There is some real comfort in that.

In terms of negatives, there is the obvious about one of us dying before the other. I thought about that before we got married and tossed it aside. I am all about logic, and how logical is it to avoid a known good thing due to the fear of eventually losing it? Any of us could get hit by a car tomorrow.

There is one unexpected negative effect. It makes some women mad. Usually, the women are closer in age to my husband. I guess I understand it; it used to annoy me a little when tall guys ended up with short women. It has been a bit of an adjustment though as I have always considered myself a friend of women – not someone who women would not like. Sometimes I have to work harder to overcome assumptions made; other times I don’t bother.

It has amazed me how well our families have adjusted, to the extent that there was an adjustment. My mother “mothers” my husband (if you know my mom, this probably will not surprise you), although there is not the typical age split between them. I am the baby sister of my husband’s sisters. My husband calls my brother “bro”. Our nieces and nephews on both sides are huge parts of our lives.

One of my all time favorite stories is about when I met my husband’s parents. We had been dating about six months and he decided that I needed to meet them – he had already met mine. His parents lived six hours away from us. We started the drive and I was filled with anxiety. What was his mother going to think of me? She doesn’t know anything about me, except that I am significantly younger. At that point, I had experienced a couple of my husband’s friends being unkind due to my age (as an aside – I was 31 – not a baby). After sweating it out for six hours, we arrive and walk into his parents’ home. His mother was sitting on the sofa and I walked over to her. She took my hand and really looked into my eyes intensely.

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, so I think I froze.

I will never forget her first words to me.

“I have been waiting all of my life for you.”

August 11th, 2011

LeeAnn

The weather in the mountains has been incredible – 70s, sunny and breezy. Compared to 100+ in Savannah, it is such a welcome relief. We have been enjoying the sunset sky which has been particularly gorgeous lately. This picture does not capture the variety of colors, but it hints at the beauty.

We have friends coming to visit us this weekend, so I have been doing a ton of cooking. I went on the hunt for recipes for relatively healthy sweets.

I found a recipe for healthy peanut butter oatmeal cookies here: Healthy Food for Living. The recipe calls for no refined flour, no sugar, no butter or oil – perfect. The only change I made to the recipe was to add 1/4 of a cup of all natural chocolate chips. Delicious.

I also found a recipe for chocolate candies on WebMD.

Ingredients
12 oz. Dark Chocolate Chips (milk chocolate if you prefer)
1 1/3 Cup Puffed Millet, Rice, Kamut (found in the cereal isle)
1 Cup Dried Cranberries, Chopped
1/2 Cup Toasted Pecan Pieces
Sea Salt

Instructions
Place chocolate it in a glass bowl over a pot of simmering water. Do not let the bottom of the bowl touch the water. Allow it to melt slowly, giving it a stir to distribute the heat. In the meantime, line a baking sheet with parchment paper and spray with cooking spray.

Remove the chocolate from the heat and gently add in the puffed grain of choice, dried fruit and nut and fold everything to combine. Allow everything to sit for about five minutes to cool.

Using a spoon and your fingers, dollop hefty tablespoons of the chocolate mix onto the baking sheet. Repeat, washing your fingers every now and then because it will be easier to work with the chocolate. This step gets messy, but as they cool you can form their shape better. Sprinkle them liberally with sea salt.

Put the tray in the fridge for about 15 minutes for the morsels to set completely.

Total Servings: 12

I found chocolate that was 72% dark chocolate, which is the highest ratio that I have seen. I did not have a glass bowl, so I slowly melted the chocolate in the microwave. I was a little worried about my final product for two reasons: (1) it was a little runny; and (2) I made 24, not 12 chocolates of good size. I continued to put them in the fridge and left them about 30 minutes. They turned out beautifully – and yummy:

As I was doing my baking this morning, I was reminded of how I used to love baking with my mom when I was a kid. My family still teases me about how I used to announce, very officiously, that cooking was hard work and it sure made me thirsty! The implication was that it was not my hard work that made me thirsty, but my tasting of the final product (well someone had to test it!). Looking back at myself at that age, I think they were probably right. I don’t think I missed many opportunities to taste test.

Apparently old habits die hard. Where did I put my water….

August 8th, 2011

LeeAnn

Sunrise at Serenity Now

Asheville Farmer’s Market

Lunch at Tupelo Honey in Asheville – hot fresh biscuit and honey

Delicious Veggie Melt and Sweet Potato Fries at Tupelo Honey

Fresh Flowers and New Vase Purchased at Farmer’s Market

Oprah Taking Afternoon Nap on the Table

Wine, Cheese and Gin (cards)

Sunset Sky

August 4th, 2011

LeeAnn

This has been a bit of a tough week for me as my Gracie has been sick again. In addition to running from the snake, I also came home from the mountains as Gracie started to squint in her eyes again. About two months ago she had to have two non-healing ulcers removed from her eyes – one on each eye. We almost lost her that day as the surgery completely stressed her out and she couldn’t get her breath. We ended up with her at the emergency vet on oxygen for several hours.

Sunday night, I was fighting the blues as I was worried about Gracie and what the eye doctor would find on Monday. My husband and I were trying to find something light and mindless to watch on tv and there was nothing – until we turned to Animal Planet. There was a show on called Too Cute that followed the birth of three litters of kittens – Persians, Bengals and Abyssinians. The Persian kittens made me laugh. I love their names – the black and white one is Reginald and one of the calico kittens is named Gizmo. The mama cat’s name is Truly Elegant. Poor pugs – especially Harley. The look on his face at the end of this video is priceless. It was the perfect thing to relax me. Be assured – no animals are hurt (you will never see anything unpleasant in that way on this blog). I have laughed about this clip all week. ข้อมูลอย่างละเอียดของ ยูฟ่าเบท โปรดไปที่ https://www.UFABET.com

Thanks to Animal Planet, I slept on Sunday night.

The eye doctor and his wonderful staff worked Gracie in on Monday at a time when no other dogs would be there, to keep her from getting stressed. Also, I enlisted my sweet dad to come with me and stay with Gracie in the air-conditioned car so that I could pull her out when ready, and then deposit her back in the cool car immediately after we were done. The eye surgeon found two new non-healing ulcers on Gracie’s eyes (in different places) and did the surgery – this time with my holding Gracie. The procedure went smoothly and she did not get panicked and hyperventilate like last time. It breaks my heart that I cannot explain to her why she has to go through the pain – and that it will eventually be better than before.

As I was taking Gracie out to my dad and the cool car after the surgery, I noticed a beat up car parked near us, with a chocolate lab mix hanging its head out the car window. I was immediately a little concerned that (a) he was going to jump out and come after us and, at the same time, (b) that it was too hot for him to be there without air conditioning, something it did not look like the car had. I went back into the vet to pay our bill and as I was leaving for the final time, the young couple from the car came into the vet eye clinic, with the man carrying the big dog. I could see now that something was severely wrong with the dog’s eyes. I held the door for him and I went to get into my car. I was very moved. It was clear that these were not people of great economic means, and they were preparing to spend significant money on their precious dog. I was very tempted to go and anonymously pay their bill after they had gone back to the examining room. What stopped me, though, was a concern that it would have been insulting. I am still debating that decision in my head. I have a tendency to over think decisions; at times I wish I would listen to my emotions instead.

I have been working from home this week to be with Gracie as she recovers – and she is doing wonderfully. Since I am home, I have been cooking. I found a recipe for vegetarian taco salad on the internet that looked good.

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

1 1/2 cups fresh corn kernels or frozen, thawed

4 large tomatoes

1 1/2 cups cooked long-grain brown rice

1 15-ounce can black, kidney or pinto beans, rinsed

1 tablespoon chili powder

1 1/2 teaspoons dried oregano, divided

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro

1/3 cup prepared salsa

2 cups shredded iceberg or romaine lettuce

1 cup shredded pepper Jack cheese

2 1/2 cups coarsely crumbled tortilla chips

Lime wedges for garnish

Preparation

Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add onion and corn; cook, stirring, until the onion begins to brown, about 5 minutes. Coarsely chop 1 tomato. Add it to the pan along with rice, beans, chili powder, 1 teaspoon oregano and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Cook, stirring frequently, until the tomato cooks down, about 5 minutes. Let cool slightly.
Coarsely chop the remaining 3 tomatoes. Combine with cilantro, salsa and the remaining 1/2 teaspoon oregano in a medium bowl.
Toss lettuce in a large bowl with the bean mixture, half the fresh salsa and 2/3 cup cheese. Serve sprinkled with tortilla chips and the remaining cheese, passing lime wedges and the remaining fresh salsa at the table.

I adapted this a little – I used both black beans and kidney beans, and cut out the cilantro (we are not cilantro fans). For two of us, I used about a third of the rice, corn and bean mixture and saved the remainder. The salad was delicious. My husband added grilled chicken to his meal. We enjoyed the rice, corn and bean mixture again the next night as a delicious side. It would also be good as burrito filling.

I served the taco salad with homemade cornbread and guacamole. I will definitely make this again – it was a perfect summer meal.

August 1st, 2011

LeeAnn

Shortly after we bought our house in North Carolina two and half years ago, our next door neighbors invited us over for a drink. Our neighbors live on the mountain full-time, and have for a number of years. They are delightful and we have very much enjoyed getting to know them. I have always remembered that first evening how Mrs. S told me that in all of their years on the mountain, they have never seen a snake. She then explained her theory as to why the snakes don’t live on the mountain – but to be honest, I don’t remember that part. I clocked out (happily) after “no snakes”.

I have kept that information tucked into my brain and it has allowed me to do some things that I may have hesitated at if there was a threat of snakes – such as gather wood, forge paths through the forest, garden, walk around the yard barefoot, etc.

This past week, I was in the mountains by myself for a few days. The plan was that my hubby would join me up there this weekend, but work (the four letter word) got in the way and so back to Savannah I came.

At about 4:45 am on the morning I was to come back, Gracie came and woke me up to take her outside to go to the bathroom. (For those of you that do not know, Gracie is a dog. I swear I would not make my child go to the bathroom outside. At least not in the middle of the night.). So, I stumbled to the door and opened it. Gracie will sometimes go right off the porch, but this time, she wanted to walk down our front walk and into the driveway.

We have bears on our mountain. They are tame in the sense that one has knocked on another neighbor’s kitchen door, but not tame in the sense that they just want to say hello. Due to the threat of the bears, I do not let my animals get out of my sight. So down our walk I go at 4:45 a.m. after Gracie. Business is accomplished and we turn around to come back.

We have one of those really cool front door mats that are made out of recycled flip-flops. Have you seen them? They are multi-colored and, obviously, very environmentally friendly. I felt very good about having it until this particular morning. Apparently, they are also good at masking things on or under it.

Gracie and I get back to the door and I go to step on the mat and I see it. A snake. Between me and the door. I freeze. Gracie bumps into the back of my legs. I quell the rising panic in my chest. I quickly weigh my options and decide that wandering the mountain in my pajamas and being mauled by a bear at 4:45 a.m. is a much worse risk then a single snake bite (plus, there was always the chance that it wasn’t poisonous).

The decision was made; I was going over the snake. Here was the tricky part though – I needed to get Gracie over the snake too. She was much more prone to being interested in the snake if she saw him (I am assuming it was a “he” – something about the sinister look). And if she poked at him, he would be more apt to bite either her or me. There was only one solution. I picked up my sixty-one pound squirming bulldog who at this point thought her mother had lost her mind, kicked the door open and then jumped over the snake. It was a decent athletic accomplishment (and again, all in my pajamas).

Safely inside and breathing heavily, I realized that there was one more thing I needed to do – collect photographic evidence. I was a little worried that if I opened the door, he would come slithering in, over my bare feet. I first got a stool, positioned it to the right of the door, stood on it, opened the door, snapped the shot and slammed the door. It is a really poor picture – and remember, I am six feet tall and the stool was at least three feet tall – so the snake is a lot bigger when you are not looking at it from nine feet away. Trust me when I say it was huge.

Since I am now wide awake with adrenalin rushing, I decide that I might as well get showered and start back to Savannah. I am dying to tell my husband about the snake, but I do not want to wake him. I am on the road when he calls me at about 7:30.

“You won’t believe what happened to me this morning.”

The story gushes out of me, just as I have told it above – starting with how I had to go out with Gracie to watch for bears and ending with us safely inside. After I finish, breathless again after re-living the excitement, there is silence on the other end. Finally, my husband says “dear, I have just one question.”

My mind is racing and I figure it is one of three questions – (a) do you want me to call the pest guy to rid the mountain of all snakes? (b) Do you need therapy? Or (c) would jewelry help? I am ready to answer “yes” to any of those.

“What were you going to do if you ran into the bear at 4:45 am in your pajamas with no one else home??”

July 28th, 2011

LeeAnn

On Wednesday, I drove to the North Carolina mountains. There is one thing that I really dread about that drive – it is that I almost always get behind a truck carrying animals, either pigs or chickens. This time it was chickens. I apologize for the poor quality picture below, but I snapped it with my cell phone while driving.

This breaks my heart. I try not to look, but it is forced on me. The chickens were so crammed into this truck that they could not move. I could see them struggle to get room. I have seen the same situation with pigs. I sit in my car and wonder what they are thinking; what they are feeling; are they panicked? Are they in pain?

As you know if you have read my blog, I am a vegetarian. I have been one, off and on, for about twenty years. The times that I have gone back to eating white meat, I did so for health reasons as I was not getting enough protein. In other words, I was a lazy vegetarian. I struggled with my reason for being a vegetarian. Was it to be healthy? Was it because I didn’t like the taste? Or was it because of my incredible love for animals? Reading “The Kind Life” by Alicia Silverstone several years ago cemented it for me; it is because of my love for animals. And I am no longer lazy about it – eating enough protein is not a problem.

On days like Wednesday, I feel very good about my decision and I know it is right for me. I also know that it is not the right decision for everyone. What I ask and hope is that people will become more thoughtful in their meat choices. Seek out the more humanely treated options. When you go to restaurants, ask if the meat is from farms that treat their animals ethically – even if you know it is not. Let people in the industry know that this is important.

In this crazy world of ours right now, wouldn’t a little more kindness and gentleness be a good thing?

If you are still with me, thank you for reading this post, which I know is a little different from my other posts. The animals in my life have made me passionate about this issue.

On a completely different note, I arrived in the mountains to this incredible garden. I get no credit whatsoever – my husband has the talent.

July 25th, 2011

LeeAnn

I was a bit of a baby when I was a kid. I didn’t like to get far from my mama and I did not like to leave home. Camp was out of the question. I don’t think anyone would have called me adventuresome or a risk taker.

I remember specific incidences of my unwillingness as a child to take risks. Sometimes it is a little hard to understand the risk or reason for fear that I perceived at the time. For example, I cried when my mom left me at ballet class (trust me, ballet was definitely an adventure for me). I threatened a hunger strike when my mom attempted to switch all natural peanut butter for Jif (if you have seen pictures of me as a child, you know that this didn’t last long). I cried and wouldn’t get on the back of a tandem bicycle with my brother as I thought he would kill us (ok, that may have been a legitimate concern).

I pretty much have always done what was expected of me – I did well in school, got into a good college, went straight to law school, and went to work at a law firm in Philadelphia. I worked hard to accomplish my goals. To use the old cliché – I didn’t veer much from the beaten path.

Every year, birthdays were a little hard on me. It is not because I was getting older necessarily, but it was more that I became very contemplative as to what I have accomplished in my life and whether or not I was truly happy. In my twenties, after three or four years in my career, I struggled with the answers.

My first big foray into risk taking was in my late twenties. I left Philadelphia, a secure job, friends, a boyfriend and a marriage proposal and moved into the deep South. Oddly enough, I did it without really thinking or planning; it just felt like the right thing to do. I never looked back once and I have never regretted it.

Maybe it was that first big step that started my addiction to adventure. I believe I understood (consciously or unconsciously) that I needed to shake my life up a little. I have blogged before about the book entitled “Fortytude” by Sarah Brokaw; that book spoke to me in many ways. Adventure is the third (as addressed by me) of the five core values espoused by Sarah in “Fortytude” for women approaching middle age. (Two other core values are covered in these blog posts: Fortytude, on grace and equanimity, and Girlfriends, on connectedness.) The remaining core values are accomplishment and spirituality.

Of the core values, I immediately identified grace (and equanimity) and connectedness as two that I needed to work on right away. I could argue with myself about accomplishment. My mama would say that I have accomplished a lot; sometimes I am not so certain. Spirituality scares me. I consider myself a spiritual person, but I am not conventionally spiritual. I am not certain that I am ready to share my beliefs on that issue, as I do not want to offend anyone.

Adventure is the one core value that I had already incorporated into my life; somehow, I knew that I needed it. Reading “Fortytude” caused me to recognize it, though, and to think about it more and to realize how much I have grown.

As Sarah explains in “Fortytude”, “[a]dventure means not settling into a tired, old pattern but rather challenging ourselves to renew our interest in and enthusiasm for life by pushing out of our comfort zones.” I get a high (like a runner’s high) from challenging my comfort zones. For the most recent example, read my blog post entitled Dodging Grizzlies. When climbing a mountain at 10,000 + feet elevation, three hours into the climb with tired legs, and encountering a snow bank to cross, I crossed it twice. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

I have a phobia of sharks (thanks to Steven Spielberg and Jaws). While at one point it caused me hesitation in swimming in large bodies of water (even fresh water – don’t ask), I now will swim in the ocean. Several years ago I competed in my first triathlon – another adventure outside of my comfort zone. While I felt incredibly proud that I was able to finish, I was a little disappointed at my performance in the swim portion, which was in a lake. For my next triathlon, I trained by swimming in the ocean. While the sharks were always on my mind, I refused to let the fear prevent me from training. At my next triathlon, I cut in half my time in the swim portion.

I was hesitant to try yoga. I have been an athlete all of my life, but one who did not stretch until the age of forty. I had a difficult time touching my toes. Plus, in all truthfulness, I typically avoid athletic “classes” where there seem to be an abundance of petite women in cute matching outfits. I thought I would make a fool of myself. Again I pushed myself and I am now absolutely addicted to yoga. My body feels better than it ever has.

Being adventuresome and taking risks does not mean that you need to be reckless – as Sarah Brokaw is quick to point out, and as I also firmly believe. I enjoy an adventure, but I am not stupid. One of my recent adventures may seem reckless to some, but it wasn’t. I researched the place and made certain of its standards. Given that I have now taken multiple rides with my brother on his motorcycle, I thought it was fitting. I got a tattoo.

July 21st, 2011

LeeAnn

We are vacationing in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and spending much of our time hiking in the Grand Teton National Park. The scenery is absolutely stunning.

We arrived here about two weeks after a tragic accident where a man was killed by a grizzly bear in Yellowstone Park, which is about an hour from here. There are grizzly bears all over this area and, apparently, this time of year they come down from higher ground for food (often elk, bison and deer babies). We have been very aware of the risk. We are a group of five and the first in our group has bear spray (which I believe is basically pepper spray) strapped to him; in addition, myself and one other have bear whistles (thanks Mike!).

Yesterday, we went to hike Hanging Canyon. I believe that I referred to it mistakenly as Death Canyon in my post earlier this week. (I think that was a freudian slip, but more on that later.) To start our hike, we had to take a ferry across Jenny Lake. While waiting for the ferry, I noticed a board which had recent local animal sightings, which included a bear sow with cubs.

There was also an article about the incident in Yellowstone. A man and a woman were hiking and spotted the bear and three cubs, about 100 yards in front of them. They froze and then started walking backwards, which is what you are supposed to do. Apparently, though, a mama bear neutralizes the area of all risks for her cubs and came after the people. She lifted the woman off of the ground by her pack. I thought a lot about that yesterday. Can you imagine being picked up off the ground by a bear? The woman went limp and the bear dropped her and lost interest when the woman played dead. The man was killed – and the article did not give much information on him other than that he was killed quickly and did not suffer, and there were bites and claw marks on him.

What a dilemma and absolute tragedy. The people basically reacted as you are supposed to do and did not intentionally (or stupidly) threaten the bear or her cubs. Still, the mother was following her instincts to protect her babies. It is hard to find fault in the situation. The park officials chose not to kill the bear.

Back to our hike to ~~Death~~ Hanging Canyon. Most people who cross Jenny Lake on the ferry are taking an easy and short hike to Inspiration Point. The trail to Hanging Canyon is six miles, but as the guidebooks say – don’t let the length fool you; the challenge is in the terrain. The trail is not well-marked and there were several places where downed trees blocked the trails and we had to go off course. The entire way, I was thinking about grizzlies. The problem is that you can not take your eyes off your feet – you are climbing up big rocks, loose rocks and over gushing streams and downed trees. If you take your attention off your footing for one second, you could be in trouble. And we were all in trouble at least once.

Three hours into the climb up – and it was very much a climb UP – we were within about 30 minutes from the top. At that point, we ran into this:

Snow. And we had to cross it to continue to the top. The problem is that if you slipped on this, you would slide down the mountain – who knows how far. Here is a view down the snow patch:

The first in our group went across this passage. My husband went across. My dear friend who was with us has a fear of heights and paused. I started across – I thought, “I grew up in snow, no problem”. I got half way across and a strong wind came up and I have to admit – it was scary. I made it the rest of the way across. We looked up at the remainder of the trail and saw that there was significant more snow on the way to the top and we decided to turn around (which meant going back across the snow).

The way down was truly tortuous. While the climb up was aerobically challenging and also tiring on the legs, we had to be even more diligent about our footing coming down. We did take short breaks to enjoy the scenery:

After five and a half hours, we made it down. We saw no bears – no wildlife other than some squirrels and a peregrine falcon chasing a hawk (which was really cool). It was an intense physical challenge, which I love, but I don’t think I would do this one again – a little too grueling and we all have a few battle wounds to prove it. In fact, on the way back to get on the ferry, a lady walked by the five of us, walking in single file, and as she passed each one of us, she looked at our wounds and said “ouch”; when she got to my husband, the last one of our group, I could hear her say “oh, please tell me we are not going where you all have been.”

July 20th, 2011

LeeAnn

Greetings from Jackson Hole, Wyoming! We are on vacation and hiking in the Grand Tetons.

On Monday, we took a five plus hour hike up Fred’s mountain. It was a steady climb up and it was beautiful. The scenery was incredible, with wild flowers and mountain views. At the top (over 10,000 feet elevation) we were surprised at the amount of snow.

view of the Grand Tetons

snow at the top

The one casualty on the way down the mountain was my hiking shoes – the soles completely came apart. Luckily, my husband and our good friend Rick came prepared with string and first aid tape. Think we should send this to LL Bean to use as an ad for their boots?

Yesterday, we hiked around Phelp’s lake. This was a recovery day, so the hike was not a big climb and lasted only a couple of hours. Again, we were rewarded with gorgeous views.

On today’s agenda – a hike to Death Canyon. Happy Wednesday!

July 15th, 2011

LeeAnn

While I love all animals, two of my favorites are elephants and English Bulldogs. Elephants are fascinating animals and we are constantly learning more about their significant intelligence and cognitive abilities. Studies have shown that elephants are very emotional and, unlike other animals, mourn their dead. The below short video shows their mourning rituals.

The old saying that elephants never forget has some truth to it. They do remember. There is an amazing organization called the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust which is located in Kenya. The organization is run by David’s widow, Dame Daphne Sheldrick, and while they rescue other types of animals as well, they specialize in orphaned elephants, many of whom have seen their parents slaughtered for the ivory. The orphaned elephants are traumatized as they do not forget the terribly violent scene that they have witnessed. Over the years, Dame Sheldrick has worked to reproduce the milk of the mother elephant to nourish these babies. Through the Trust’s website (www.sheldrickwildlifetrust.org), I adopt a baby elephant for my mom each year on Mother’s Day. It is a wonderful program – you can pick a specific elephant and they send to the gift recipient an entire package containing pictures and a history of the elephant, and then also provide regular updates.

The below is another favorite elephant video showing a baby elephant’s first steps. Notice how the elephants surround the baby to protect and assist – truly a beautiful scene.

Apparently I came by my passion for bulldogs naturally. My family jokes that there is a bulldog gene that started with my great-uncle, went to my dad, and then passed to me. We had them when I was a child and when I reached a point of stability in my adult life (with job and marriage) my husband and I found this sweet girl:

Her registered name is Savannah’s Amazing Grace; we call her Gracie and she is my soul mate. When Gracie was a baby, we visited the beautiful community of Black Mountain, North Carolina with friends. Gracie, of course, accompanied us. My husband said he always knew where I was in a store, even if we were separated, as he would hear people scream once they saw Gracie. For the first six months of her life, she went to work with me; during that period of time, I accomplished nothing as I constantly had members of our law firm visiting my office. I would walk her in downtown Savannah and traffic would stop. Part of that is due to bulldogs being extremely popular in Savannah as it is the home of UGA, the University of Georgia bulldog mascot – and the other part is because she truly is special.

Because Gracie was my first dog as an adult, my husband bought me a dog training book titled “So Your Dog Isn’t Lassie” – and it had a picture of an English Bulldog on the front. Bulldogs are notoriously stubborn and difficult to train. I took Gracie to obedience school and I remember the owner telling me that she had never seen a bulldog that responded to its owner like Gracie did to me. We communicate with each other without talking. She is my constant companion. My sweet Gracie is now ten years old, which is somewhat advanced in bulldog years. At times, when I look at her and see the age in her face, I get a panicked feeling in my chest. I cannot imagine my life without her – but then I also know that she will always be with me.

My May-December Romance

Sweets!

Sunday in the Mountains

Random Thoughts on a Thursday: Persians, Pugs and Taco Salad

Preparation

False Advertising (and men really are from mars)

A Short Plea

How Did That Happen??

Dodging Grizzlies

Hiking in Grand Teton National Park

My Love Affair with Elephants and English Bulldogs

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