The end of my 30 day challenge, Facebook and some other funny shit.

So I’ve reached the end of my one blog a week for 30 days challenge, and I succeeded. Yey me! Enjoyed it too. Now going to try and keep up a regular post, so be prepared for some continued regular random rants/moments of profoundness from me as time goes on.  But, after the deep nature of my post on Sunday, I’m going to try and keep this one light!

One great thing about writing this stuff, and also about the previous challenge with the pictures, is that it enables me to look back and remember things I may have forgotten. I was never good at keeping a diary as a kid, didn’t have the dedication, but the joys of blogging, and my oh-so-copious use of Facebook, allows me to chronicle some of the stuff that does go on.

I get a fair bit of stick for my use of Facebook, and every now and then it riles me. More often than not it’s water off a ducks back though. Now, in fairness, most of it is light-hearted, but there’s normally a little undertone of disdain/disapproval in the comments. Yes I use it a lot, yes I post a lot of stuff, but it’s my page. I can do what I want with it. I have people on my timeline who I like and who I care about. I don’t have randomers or people I’m trying to impress. I’m not a ‘keeping up with the Jones’s’ kind of girl.  And contrary to popular belief, I don’t post every thing about every single nuance of my life (or that of my friend’s) on there. Now, it’s safe to say that I’m fairly transparent in my comings and goings, but there’s also a fair bit of stuff that goes on that isn’t for public consumption, and likely never will be. Because really, it’s none of anyone else’s business!

Yes I post some crap, yes I’ve posted some stuff that’s kicked off some right arguments (and that’s always fun when certain people get involved! You know who you are!), and I post  pictures of anything and everything. But you all cope, and if you don’t well, see ya. Sorry to sound so flippant, but if it bothers people that much, just un-friend me. I’m really not going to loose any sleep over it. Cue me throwing myself to the floor kicking and screaming…..Please don’t leave me!!!!!! Ahem.

I do love Facebook though, it allows me to maintain contact with people I’ve lost contact with over the years, between moving around etc. And it entertains me on a daily basis. Some of the crap you see flying around does make you question the whole “survival of the fittest” thing. You’ve got to love the Internet for highlighting the stupidity of others…and also massively highlighting my own sometimes, it has to be said! Which leads me nicely onto my next point: Funny shit on t’Internet!

I’m a regular clicker onto The Chive, The Poke, Guyism and The Daily Mash  and they never fail to amuse me.

I’ve been an appreciator of The Daily Mash for about 5 years now, and my favourite story is, and always will be, “Look at the size of this fucking rat”. It never fails to make me laugh, even now, and I must have read it at least 20 times. (Yes, I’m easily pleased)

I also recommend people check out the horoscopes on the Mash, Psychic Bob is a legend.

We all know the multitude of stuff that’s out there for our amusement. YouTube is another great one for amusing little titbits. But, in my opinion, one of the best sites I’ve ever seen is David Thorne’s http://www.27bslash6.com/. If you’ve never heard of David Thorne, he’s the guy who tried to pay his overdue bank amount with a picture of a seven legged spider.

I bought his book The Internet is a playground and I can’t read it in public for fear of being sectioned, it makes me laugh that maniacally.

My parting shot in this post though is to The League of Gentleman. Some of you may be familiar with this show from the late 90's/early 00’s. I watched it a lot with Lucy at college and we used to cry laughing. It’s my kind of humour. Totally random, downright weird, very dark and brilliantly written.

It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, I do realise this. But I have to call out a few utter gems from the shows history.

Legz Akimbo: This was my first introduction into TLoG. Neil and Andrew rocked up to our A-Level Theatre Studies class one day and re-enacted this entire scene from the episode that had been broadcast the night before. I remember crying with laughter and my love of The Gents was born.  Unfortunately I can’t find the clip of the original sketch, but this gives you a flavour of what it’s all about. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWeZ0RbaEig

Pam Doove: There are no words to explain this, you just have to watch it. It’s just fabulously random.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5wB0OkcCps8

I didn’t force her!: Are you very kind, kind, fairly kind, or not at all kind to animals? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IQJNwvtkmg&playnext=1&list=PL5F3F724742045993

And finally, my all time favourite: Go Johnny Go Go Go Go…(not Bamalamafizzfadge) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtSvaSZ-xLU

Hmm, I started writing this post in a great mood. Sun is shining and it’s a good day. But a combination of events over the space of about an hour have led to me being in a STINKER of a mood now. Women? Mood swings? Whatever gave you that idea?!
Oh, and I REALLY need to stop eating these Mint Imperials on my desk. They're highly addictive though...but they're just there, for the eating...nom nom nom. See, am in a better mood already!

Until next time.

Much love,

Sandra.

x

Cosmetic surgery? No thanks.

Earlier this week a male friend sent me a link to a story about nipple tattooing, accompanied by a comment along the lines of "Where will you guys go next?!"
I read the story in disbelief and so ensued a rant from me back to the male friend about the article and a few other bits thrown in. I wish I had the actual emails I sent at the time, as I write this post, because I made some frankly awesome comments. But, as they're at work, I'll just have to do my best to paraphrase.

Why can't we, as women, be happy with the way we are? Why do we feel the need to surgically alter our bodies to conform to fashion or male/peer pressure. 

In the article referenced above there's a comment that women are getting this procedure done because their boyfriends want them to. WTF?! Seriously?! If I was with a guy who turned round and said he wanted me to get my nipples tattooed, he'd be out the door faster than, well, something really fucking fast.  But, then again, I don't think I know any guys who would seriously say this to  their girlfriend. Although I struggle to comprehend that there are women out there who would actually do this at a boyfriends request, I have to accept the fact that there are. 

But this isn't a male bashing post, I like men, they're lovely (most of the time) but they're not the only knobheads on this planet. 

I ask above why we can't be happy with our bodies. I say this as someone who is currently loosing weight, so I realise that I'm being a tad hypocritical. But, I must qualify this. I've been responsible for my own weight gain over the last ten years and haven't been happy about it for some time. Not because anyone has said anything to me about it (save one comment from my dad, but we'll not go into that), but because I know I've just been a lazy arsed cow. So, earlier this year I put steps in place to change that and it's working. I'm happier and am actually enjoying the process, which I never thought I would. I  say with my hand on my heart that I am doing this for me, only me. Not because of men. Not because of peer pressure and certainly not because of the fucking media.
But, at no point in my life, whether it be when I was a young, slim 21 yr old or as I now, older, curvier and 31, could I ever imagine undergoing invasive cosmetic surgery to amend my breasts, my ass, my legs, nipples, or, god forbid, my vagina; all in the name of aesthetic pleasure. 

I do genuinely blame the media for this. My reading tastes have changed some what over the last 6 years. I used to read trashy magazines but got bored of the idiotic articles and empty writing. But that put me out of touch with the celeb world and there were times when I'd not have a clue who married who, who shagged who, and who popped what sprog, and for some reason I thought this mattered. So I used to skim the Daily Mail website (uurrrgghhh) each day. 5 mins scanning the headlines on the right hand bar would tell me all I needed to know. 
I rarely clicked into the actual articles but every now and then I would, partly because I couldn't believe what I was reading in the headline. 
One week you'd have an article about, oh I dunno, Kate Moss, saying she's too thin and needs a bit of meat on her. Then the next week there'd be something about Scarlett Johannsson and how she's put on a bit of weight and is looking porky, when she's actually probably only a size 12 and looks amazing. Then, the following week there'd be something about someone my size saying how she's flying the flag for bigger girls and good for her, she doesn't care. And although the immediate appearance of that article would be a positive one, there'd be an undertone running through it that she's fat and needs to loose weight. When, in reality she's happy with herself, is in proportion and actually looks good, because she's comfortable in her own skin. 

But, it's not just the DM who does this, I just hate them more than any other. It's all over the place. Porn doesn't help. Personally I hate the fact that porn gets blamed for a lot of crap, but I do think it has a bearing here. 
The media is plastered with images of 'perfect' women. And although there is also a fair bit of stuff out there discrediting these 'perfect' images, they have little effect. 

But, I don't think it's just women who are affected by this. The recent emergence of shows containing total douchebags; TOWIE, Jersey Shore etc and the changes in mens fashions would serve to suggest that men conform to these pressures too. 
I don't seem to be able to go a day without seeing a picture on FB or Twitter of a group of young lads and lasses, all plastered with fake tan, looking like absolute eejits. They'd easily fit into one of the shows mentioned above. But, what I don't understand is how they think this look is attractive. The only answer I can come up with is that they're young enough to be convinced that what they see on TV is what is normal and what others find attractive. They do seem to range from their teens to their mid twenties. I only hope that they come to realise what the real world actually wants.

I have nothing against nicely groomed men, it's nice to see a man who takes care of his appearance. But there's a line. A man who spends more time in the bathroom than I do, who wears any fake tan, and who waxes his chest, can jog on for me. 
Give me a guy with a fine chest rug, the ability to grow a beard should he so choose and pasty white skin anyday. 

Beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. Just because I don't find my friends boyfriend or husband attractive doesn't mean he isn't. If we all looked the same and found the same kind of people attractive the world would be a very very vanilla place. 

I made a comment to the male friend who sent me the link that men may oogle after Megan Fox, or Eva Mendes or that girl in FHM with the huge norks, but I fully realise, as I'd like to think those men do, that that's not their reality woman, and it is just a fantasy. Equally, we as women drool over Brad Pitt or George Cloonery but again, it's a fantasy. At no point do we expect that we will actually end up with someone who looks like that, just as the men realise their future partner won't be an Eva Mendes doppelganger.
The friend responded agreeing with me. He also admitted he didn't know anyone who'd ever dumped a girl because their nipples weren't the right colour shade. 

I know I may not be everybody's cup of tea physically, and that's fine. I don't want to be. But, regardless of my size at the time, I've never had any complaints from guys. Which makes sense, because if they did have any complaints then why would they be with me? We as humans are simple creatures really, we like to be wanted/admired. It makes us feel good to know that someone finds us attractive. 
But we should learn to accept that we are who we are fundamentally, and we're all beautiful in our unique ways. There's no need to have bigger boobs, a flatter stomach, darker nipples and a tighter and/or tidier vagina for someone to love us. 

Until next time, Much love.

Sandra.
xx

A weekend of awesomeness.

I'd never been to Galway until this weekend, and I'm sure I'll return but I'm not sure that my epic first visit will be topped. 

Let me set the scene. Myself and 4 friends were all heading to Galway for P's hen do. We'd obviously had the details of the weekend for a while and we knew there were roughly 30 of us coming together. We were looking forward to it, we all get on wonderfully, and along with P, are all very close. But I don't think any of us realised just how truly awesome the weekend would be. 
It all started on the Friday on the bus over. 11 of us on a mini bus, various forms of alcohol and some great tunes. It was the Party Bus, and it allowed us to form some bonds with new people. Plus, we had the Hen so we had to kick things off early. 
The rest of the weekend continued in the same theme, my stomach muscles hurt from laughing so much and I have some fabulous memories and pictures of us all together. 
I've been on a fair few hen dos, all of which have been amazing, and I don't want anyone reading this to think I'm poo pooing theirs. Not at all, I loved every minute of every one I've been on previously and have amazing memories from them all. 

I have to take my hat off to the organisers of last weekend. There were 33 of us in total and we were the biggest Hen Do in Galway last weekend. I've organised two hen dos before. A small, intimate one of 3, and a slightly larger one of 12 (I think it was 12!). These things take a hell of a lot of organisation, coordination and patience. To arrange one for 33 people, from a number of different locations and for everything to go as slickly as it did, I applaud you ladies I really do. 
Everyone got on well, no one got lost, there were no dramas, everyone dressed up for the burlesque dancing activity and everyone had a rip roaring time. The weather was a bit naff but we soldiered on through. 
It's evidence of the awesomeness of P really. We'd all come together for her, and she deserved every second of spoiling this weekend. Not too long until the wedding, I know it'll be in the same vein and I can't wait. 

It's weekends like that that, again, make me realise how lucky I am to have the friends that I do. 

So, thank you to P for inviting me. Thank you to the bridesmaids for their truly epic organisation, thoughtfulness and all round awesomeness. And thank you to the other 4 girls in our little circle. You all rock...as do Unicorns. ;-)

A short post this week, I'm wrecked and genuinely haven't got the energy to write much more!

Until next time, much love.

Sandra
xx

How I came to be in Dublin and a gushing about friends!

I’m just back from a 4 day visit to the UK to see friends and family. Had a great time.  Managed to catch up with some people I’ve not seen in ages, meet friend’s new babies, play the exotic visitor with the elder kids and have some good old clean grown up fun with the adults.

I’ve lived in Ireland for just over 6 years, wasn’t supposed to pan out like that. In Sept 2006 I broke up with my boyfriend. We’d been together for 4 years and I was a bit adrift. Although it was a mutual decision to split and very amicable, you know the way. I was 24, still young, wasn’t prepared to move back home and was very grateful to a then work colleague, Andy, for providing me with a cheap place to stay for 3 months while I decided where I’d go next.  I’d heard talk in work of a project implementing in Ireland, and previously this hadn’t been an option for me. But, things had changed. My current project was coming to an end so I figured that I’d put myself forward. It was a 6 month stint based in Dublin, which seemed perfect. It would give me a chance to expand a bit in work; working with new people in a new location, on a very high profile project, but aside from all this, it was a clean break. 6 months would give me the time I needed to clear my head and decide my next step.

So on 11^th Dec 2006 I set off for Dublin with my new team. I knew one girl, Emma, from my previous project and we got on great, the others seemed grand enough. I look back and laugh. I didn’t have a clue what was about to take place. We rocked up, as the 4 new dudes, into a group of about 60 people already over there from the UK, all with well established relationships/nuances etc.  Not a massive problem, we were all from similar stock and just got on with things.  What was more difficult was trying to get our phase of the project up and running during the implementation of the previous project. But, I’m not going to get into that.

So commenced 6 months of, well, carnage, if I’m honest. The best way to describe it was that it was like being at college, but with money. We were all living in the same apartment complex, and it was like college halls with regards to the atmosphere. We were all working tremendously hard, but boy, we played hard too. Quite a few of the guys went home on a weekend, so our playtime as a working group was mid week...something that was alien to me! Yeah I was 24, but I’d been in a relationship with a pseudo step son for the last 4 years, I wasn’t accustomed to cocktails mid week and staying up until the wee hours with work the next morning. But that soon changed. I formed some great friendships in this time, to the point that when I was asked if I’d like to stick around for another 3 months to offer BAU support I accepted. This 3 month piece then led to a further 6 month piece before I was finally faced with the reality of returning to the UK. It wasn’t until that point that I realised just how much I loved being in Ireland. Sounds mad given that I’d been there for 15 months, but I’d just been going with the flow. Enjoying the work, having fun, making friends and building on those new friendships. Yes, I was going home a fair bit to see sisters, parents etc but I was spending the majority of my time in Dublin.

I needed to make a decision: return to my role in Halifax, find somewhere to live and pick up where I’d pressed ‘pause’ 15 months earlier, or, leave the company, stay in Dublin, find a new job, find somewhere to live, someone to live with and continue the new life I’d already pretty much started.

I had a window of about 6 weeks within which to make this decision. I spoke to my sisters, my friends (both in the UK and Ireland) and I was still torn with what I was going to do. Sure, moving back to the UK would be easy, I had a great friend base, I could live in Halifax, and it’d all be hunky dory. But, I wasn’t sure this was what I wanted. What I also wasn’t sure of was whether I was looking at Dublin through rose tinted glasses. Would I find a job elsewhere, would I find somewhere to live, would I find someone to live with? There seemed to be too many unknowns and I was wavering.

Until, one night, after work, I went for a few drinks with a friend. I jumped in a taxi home about 9pm, wasn’t drunk, was still very lucid. As we were heading up Baggot St, I was looking out of the window of the car when I had a bit of an epiphany. I sat there and I thought “If I have to leave this city in 4 weeks I’ll be devastated. I don’t want to go. I want to stay. If I don’t try this I’ll never know”. That was it for me, decision made. I handed in my resignation, Claire and I decided we’d move in together, we found somewhere to live, I left the company….and then fecked off to Egypt on holiday for 2 weeks with Jo. Looking back I was somewhat foolish and should really have looked for a job before I left for my holier. But I didn’t, and it still worked out ok. Within a week of being back from holiday I’d secured a job and the rest is history really.

That was back in April 2008 and a number of times I was asked whether it was a permanent move. I always said I’d give it 5 years, then reassess where I was and what I wanted to do. That time is now. Where am I? Well, I’m still living in the same apartment with Claire and that all works wonderfully. I am incredibly lucky that she and I get on so well; we have a similar circle of friends, we spend a lot of time together and it works. I’m sure I do stuff that pisses her off, but I don’t believe it’s anything major. I’m confident she’d have told me…Claire, now is your chance!!

I’m in a job I enjoy. I contracted for a while after leaving the bank and have been in a permie position since Sept 2011. Yeah, sure, I have moments of pure frustration with the company and the job, but in the grand scheme of things I enjoy it and feel supported, required etc.

I have a truly fabulous set of friends here. They’re my girls and they’re just epic. I love them all and they keep me sane (or totally indulge my craziness!).

So in short, I’m happy and am sticking around on the Emerald Isle.

Of course, I miss my family and friends that aren’t here. It was thinking about the fact that it’d been over 12 months since I’d seen three of the people I saw at home over the weekend that got the creative juices flowing re this post actually. 2 of these people have had significant events happen in their lives since I last saw them, all of which I’ve been aware of as they happened.  These were mainly good events, but one particularly horrible one; and it was important to me that I made time for them this weekend. The nice ones are great to have a reminisce about, but the horrible one, well, I was just glad the outcome is a (so far) positive one, that they remain a part of my life and that I was able to see them and properly reconnect. Yes, I’m being deliberately evasive. You know who you are.

It’s times like these that I really appreciate the friends I have. Yes I have a close circle of friends here in Dublin. But, I also have a good number of friends elsewhere in the world who I don’t see very often. We make time for each other when we can but whether the gap between seeing each other is 3 months or 15 months, it doesn’t matter. We keep in contact, we fully appreciate the demands within each of our lives that might prevent us from reconnecting as often as we’d like and of course we appreciate the geography. The distance or the time lag doesn’t matter; we remain friends and we remain supportive of one another. So I might not divulge every single detail of my life to every different friend, neither do they with me. That’s half the fun of a catch up. You know the key bits, the real important bits, the rest is wine or tea fodder!

I see posts on Facebook all the time about ‘true friends’ etc. Some are overly sentimental and piss me off, but in the main, they ring true. But, it’s rare that I share them. Maybe I should more, but I’d like to think that those close to me know their importance to me and don’t need reminding all the time. They know they can call on me whenever they need to and I’ll be there, day or night, for whatever reason.

Someone said to me this weekend “I have friends who need effort to maintain, and those who don’t”. I think that’s true of most people, but being genuinely honest, I don’t think I have any ‘high maintenance’ friends. Sure, I have friends who are high maintenance women, but in friends terms they aren’t. I don’t think I’m a high maintenance friend, and I’m certainly not a high maintenance woman!

I think it’s important to surround ourselves with people we care about and appreciate, and who care about and appreciate us in the same way. As we get older we realise the really important things, and I certainly know my top things at 31 are massively different to what they were when I was 21.

I don't mean any of this to sound flippant in any way, or cast aspersions on others friends choices. As always with these posts, I talk from a personal point of view. I just know that I've had high maintenance friends and we've never lasted. I look at my friends now and I can't imagine never being friends with any of them. That's not to say I won't gain new friends, I'd like to think I will. But I also hope I never lose this lot.

On that note, it's Paula's hen do this weekend. That's a different type of carnage...stay tuned!

Until next time.

Much love.

S. x

Attenborough, Evolution & Conservation.

I said I'd do one post a week, and this morning I realised that last Monday was my last post. My immediate thought about writing this second post was "What the fuck am I going to write about, nothing interesting has happened!". But as is my norm, I didn't dwell on it too much and figured something would come to me in the next few hours. And it did. As it stands now I have a notepad file open on my laptop with a list of about 4/5 things that I could cover. Not sure I'll cover them all in this post though, as someone said to me not long ago "Think of the reader", in reference to having too much material. So, I'll bear that in mind for today and try not to bore anyone to tears. 

This Easter bank holiday weekend has felt incredibly long. But in a good way. Not sure whether it's because I've done a fair bit or whether it's because work has been a bit mad recently so I was glad of the break, but the 4 day weekend has felt much longer than it was. I'm flying back to the UK on Wednesday night and staying until Sunday, I bet those 4 days will fly by. Am looking forward to the trip home though. In my last post I mentioned that my friend Keri and her husband Jonathan were due their second child soon. And I was overjoyed to get a text from Keri on 28th March to say that they'd had a little boy that morning. He was a very healthy weight, which came as no surprise given late pregnancy checks, but both mother and baby are well, and I'm looking forward to cuddles with the new arrival and a little play time with his big sister next week. Have got a good few other catch ups planned whilst I'm back too, all of which I'm looking forward to. 

Those that know me know that I have a bit of an obsession with David Attenborough. It's a healthy obsession, well, I think so. He's my hero. I love everything he's done and have a lot of them on DVD. Not quite sure when this obsession started. I've always liked nature stuff and I put it down to my paternal granddad. I used to spend a certain amount of time each weekend at my nan and granddad's and I have wonderful memories of being with them. I was very close to them, and lived with them for 6 months at one point, although that's another story, one which I may share in time. I remember watching nature type things on the TV with them, and I think that's what piqued my interest as I grew up. My granddad died suddenly 5 days after my 16th birthday, and we were all understandably devastated. The day after the funeral I received a parcel in the post containing a BBC Nature A3 sized posted of some polar bears. My granddad had sent off for it from the Radio Times for me. It was a bittersweet thing to receive, I loved it because it was from him, but I hated that I couldn't thank him personally for it. I still miss my him, 15 years on. I'm welling up just writing this. 

But, I digress slightly. This weekend there was an Attenborough thing on Sky called Galápagos.
I'm sure we're all aware that it was Charles Darwin's visit to the Galápagos that sparked his research and consequent writing of The Origin of Species. And similarly, I'm sure that most of us realise the the Galápagos islands are a truly unique ecosystem given the specific species that reside there and the relative isolation of the islands. 
But, until watching the programme this weekend I'd never thought about the nuances of life within the archipelago. It seems obvious now, but there are very few land based mammals on the islands, and the majority of wildlife are birds and reptiles. Humans have introduced dogs, cats, goats, donkeys and others to the islands and these are a menace, but that's not my point here. 
The archipelago is located on the equator, approx 600 miles west of Equador. All the islands are volcanic, although most are now extinct. And the vast majority of the animals on the islands came from South America. Sounds simple enough, but 600 miles is a far way to travel when you don't fly or swim. It's thought that most of the reptiles that now inhabit the islands were transported across the sea on rafts of reeds etc that came from the rivers of Equador. Except maybe the Giant Tortoise, which literally may have floated there! But as I said before, it's not exactly a short distance. However, reptiles are hardy little buggers and can go for long periods (weeks, even months) without food, which explains their ability to survive the long journey across the sea. 
Mammals aren't this hardy, and any that may have found themselves adrift on a reed raft would not have survived long, perishing of starvation and dehydration  This means that there are no large mammalian predators on the islands. Which in turn means that the reptiles and birds can devote more time to breeding and raising their young without having to worry about being preyed upon. Because of this, most of the animals on the islands produce more young than others of their kind in other countries. The consequence of this abundant breeding is an escalation in the evolution of the species on the islands. In their isolation the islands really are a bit of a 'natural experiment', but allow us a glimpse of the evolution in action across a rather small area and a relatively short space of time. 

We as humans have added our own destruction to the islands, and the early visitors hunted the Giant Tortoises for food. That and the introduction of goats to Pinta island, resulting in the descration of the vegetation, led to the believed extinction of the Pinta Tortoise. But in 1971 a single male Pinta tortoise was disovered and moved to a conservation facility. This tortoise was given the appropriate moniker of Lonesome George, but despite attempts at a breeding programme he remained lonesome, and on his death in June 2012 the Pinta Tortoise became likely extinct (only likely as there are reports of tortoises that were partially descended from the same species so there may be other Pintas alive). David Attenborough filmed the last ever footage of George, 14 days before his death, as part of the Galápagos series. Lonesome George served to highlight the extent of the effect of humans on the wildlife of the world and he became a bit of a beacon for conservation efforts both within the Galápagos and across the world. 

I could waffle on about this stuff all day as I'm sure you can tell. We have such an abundance of life on the Earth, all of it incredible and I think it's a real shame that we don't do more to assist it. Granted, there are lots of conservation projects globally that make a difference, but there are not enough. All you need to do is to look at the statistics of the ivory trade to see just how badly some of the so called restrictions in place are failing spectacularly, (National Geographic: Ivory Worship). 
Some people may call me hypocritical for harping on about conservation but remaining an omnivore. I'm not going to get into the argument here now, Vegetariansim is a choice and it's one I choose not to do.

I could also break my back, and bank account, donating money to the various projects around the world. I adore Elephants (hebbits), and I foster an elephant from the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust. They do a massive amount of great work in Africa for elephants and rhinos and I like knowing that my money helps towards this. 

I do of course realise that we as humans are struggling in parts of the world too, in war torn and poverty stricken countries. And yes, things need to be done to improve these situations too. I didn't feel it was right to talk about the conservation of animals without at least referring to the issues of our own species. Although they hold one thing in common, they're the result of us; humans. 

Well, that turned out to be more educational and profound than I intended, but I hope you're all still awake, and have possibly gained a little information from reading this. 

Until next time, take it easy. 

Sandra. 
x