While watching TV last evening I came across an animal show that captivated me. It was about big cats. A journalist was traveling with a couple living in Africa who had devoted their lives the preservation of lions and tigers.She was out in the bush with them.
If you follow this blog you know I am most impressed with the National Tiger Sanctuary in Missouri. That's probably what made me pause at this TV program.
During the program one of the lion's gave birth to triplets. Lions and tigers make very good parents, playing with their offspring, making sure they are fed and kept clean and learn the things important to survival.
Unfortunately one of these curious small cubs wandered into a small stream and was immediately grabbed by a huge crocodile. The circle of life.
If that weren't bad enough a second cub got into the way of a gnu stampede and got stepped on. His back legs were crushed. For a few days he dragged himself along with his front paws but did not have the strength to sustain that movement. His mother tried to pick him up in her mouth and carry him along but the cub could not assist her in any way and the mother was forced to place him back on the ground.
They were both helpless.
For a long time the mother tiger looked down at her cub, leaned down and licked the top of his head. The cub mewed a hopeless moan. The mother paused then took a few steps away from the cub and sat down facing away. She looked back over her shoulder at her cub and back toward the camera. She blinked a long, slow blink and swallowed hard. She arose and slowly walked away never looking back. You could hear the cub mewing in the background.
I was in tears.
And that's what I think about it.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Fall Break - Part 4 - Adventure on the Way Home
Headed toward Meramec Caverns. Tourist season was past and we got a personal tour, the two of us and guide. An easy hour walk through amazing formations with a light and sound show to cap the tour.
As we sat in tiered bleacher built into the rock we heard Kate Smith (yes, the one from the 50s) belt out her signature piece "God Bless America." As her last note echoed throughout the caverns this image was projected on the stalactite stone curtain. I thought I was still in Branson.
Choosing not to drive through St. Louis but needing, at some point, to cross the river from Missouri into Illinois, we drove south along the river to a lesser known and traveled bridge. We headed toward the one indicated on the map only to find that the bridge was closed. A car ferry was the only transportation across the river at that point. For $12 one-way we drove onto the ferry. Chatting with the young man on the raft-like ferry it was discovered that this was his first day on the job.
Sadly, Purina Farms was closed the day we were there. Looked like a fun tour. We may have to return.
On the highway was a sign for the local attractions and we headed toward it. The Largest Rocking Chair in the World. You don't see this kind of tourist site on groups tours.
Another sign offered puzzles. Who among us would not be curious about this commercial venture? Fifteen rows of floor to ceiling shelves of puzzles. One had 24,000 pieces and came in a box the size of a large TV.
Hungry for lunch we found the charming little town of Chester, IL, home of Popeye....and his friends.
We detoured to Carbondale to see the university from which our son-in-law graduated. We drove around campus envisioning him walking to class and studying in the library. Unfortunately, we found out later, he hadn't graduated from here but from the Edwardsville campus.
That's the kind of vacation we sometimes like to take. Just start off and see where the road takes us. And that's what I think about it.
As we sat in tiered bleacher built into the rock we heard Kate Smith (yes, the one from the 50s) belt out her signature piece "God Bless America." As her last note echoed throughout the caverns this image was projected on the stalactite stone curtain. I thought I was still in Branson.
Choosing not to drive through St. Louis but needing, at some point, to cross the river from Missouri into Illinois, we drove south along the river to a lesser known and traveled bridge. We headed toward the one indicated on the map only to find that the bridge was closed. A car ferry was the only transportation across the river at that point. For $12 one-way we drove onto the ferry. Chatting with the young man on the raft-like ferry it was discovered that this was his first day on the job.
Sadly, Purina Farms was closed the day we were there. Looked like a fun tour. We may have to return.
On the highway was a sign for the local attractions and we headed toward it. The Largest Rocking Chair in the World. You don't see this kind of tourist site on groups tours.
Another sign offered puzzles. Who among us would not be curious about this commercial venture? Fifteen rows of floor to ceiling shelves of puzzles. One had 24,000 pieces and came in a box the size of a large TV.
Hungry for lunch we found the charming little town of Chester, IL, home of Popeye....and his friends.
We detoured to Carbondale to see the university from which our son-in-law graduated. We drove around campus envisioning him walking to class and studying in the library. Unfortunately, we found out later, he hadn't graduated from here but from the Edwardsville campus.
That's the kind of vacation we sometimes like to take. Just start off and see where the road takes us. And that's what I think about it.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Fall Break - Part 3 - The Tigers, Etc.
We left Fort Leonard Wood with the feeling that the country, and by extension the world, was in good hands and drove northeast.
We passed Skagg's Memorial Hospital and the Rotton Surgical Group. We were happy to be healthy.
When we stopped for breakfast we listened in to the conversation at the next table and heard, "The Louvre didn't do much for me." The woman speaking had just come from a "memorable, exciting" trip to Branson. Go figure!
The night before I had mentioned on Facebook where we were and a colleague at the seminary, where we are both students, messaged me that his dad lived in the area we were headed for and why didn't we stop in and see him. As if! I come from a long line of folks who would never impose like that and never, never 'drop in' on someone unannounced and uninvited. Like we would do that. But to be polite I asked for his dad's phone number....just in case. When we got near Rollo, MO I called the dad on my cell. He was waiting for the call. Yes, he sure could meet us at Steak n Shake and 20 minutes later he pulled in with a great big Missouri welcome. He had lived in the area all his life and knew the history and the current events. What a pleasant and unexpected pleasure it was to spend time with him. I could see his son in him but he absolutely could not be tempted to give me any anecdotal stories about any trouble his son had ever been in. We now have a delightful friend in Missouri.
In this area of Missouri, according to the local paper, the local community was having a "Dodge Brawl" tournament, The Leach Theatre was offering "Deer Camp: The Musical" and Meramec Bison farm was selling "American's Original Red Meat." The local animal shelter was asking for a forever home for Jackson, a Rottweiler who had been turned back into the shelter for, "eating the family's dinner right off the table. But who among us is perfect?" The recipe for the day was Tortellini with Pumpkin Sage Sauce.
A small billboard on the highway announced the exit for the National Tiger Sanctuary. Intrigued, we spent a couple of hours at this fascinating place. The sanctuary is an educational facility that "provides a safe, stress-free forever home for the animals."
A few of these animals had been owned by private families who thought it would be cool to raise a tiger or lion. From cute five-pounders, in a few years the cats had grown to 1100 pounds...quite impossible to house and feed for a private family. And no, I don't think people should be able to buy these animals as pets. Anyway, families would call the sanctuary or local zoo to come get the cat which at some point became capable of devouring the family. Some zoos called the sanctuary to see if they could provide a safe old-age type facility for animals no longer able to live in a zoo. From circuses and other entertainment venues owners would call to see if their animals could live out their lives at the sanctuary.
During the tours one is only four feet from a man-eating tiger, protected by two 12-foot fences. The guide, very knowledgeable about animals and college-educated in biology, walked between the fences carrying a bucket of turkey legs.
Once you've heard it you do not forget the sound of a 1700 pound tiger chomping down on a turkey leg, the bone snapping in two, sounding like the sound of a Kit Kat bar being snapped apart in an echo chamber. One big guy took the turkey leg from the guide and there was silence. The guide put her hands on her hips and said, "Hey, you'd didn't even chew that up. You just swallowed it whole." It gives one a new perspective on the power of these big cats.
To access more pictures and information about this very important sanctuary please go to:
www.nationaltigersanctuary.org.
We are not close to home yet and there were several more exciting local stops on our meandering trip before returning home to Indiana but this is enough for now.
And that's what I think about it.
We passed Skagg's Memorial Hospital and the Rotton Surgical Group. We were happy to be healthy.
When we stopped for breakfast we listened in to the conversation at the next table and heard, "The Louvre didn't do much for me." The woman speaking had just come from a "memorable, exciting" trip to Branson. Go figure!
The night before I had mentioned on Facebook where we were and a colleague at the seminary, where we are both students, messaged me that his dad lived in the area we were headed for and why didn't we stop in and see him. As if! I come from a long line of folks who would never impose like that and never, never 'drop in' on someone unannounced and uninvited. Like we would do that. But to be polite I asked for his dad's phone number....just in case. When we got near Rollo, MO I called the dad on my cell. He was waiting for the call. Yes, he sure could meet us at Steak n Shake and 20 minutes later he pulled in with a great big Missouri welcome. He had lived in the area all his life and knew the history and the current events. What a pleasant and unexpected pleasure it was to spend time with him. I could see his son in him but he absolutely could not be tempted to give me any anecdotal stories about any trouble his son had ever been in. We now have a delightful friend in Missouri.
In this area of Missouri, according to the local paper, the local community was having a "Dodge Brawl" tournament, The Leach Theatre was offering "Deer Camp: The Musical" and Meramec Bison farm was selling "American's Original Red Meat." The local animal shelter was asking for a forever home for Jackson, a Rottweiler who had been turned back into the shelter for, "eating the family's dinner right off the table. But who among us is perfect?" The recipe for the day was Tortellini with Pumpkin Sage Sauce.
A small billboard on the highway announced the exit for the National Tiger Sanctuary. Intrigued, we spent a couple of hours at this fascinating place. The sanctuary is an educational facility that "provides a safe, stress-free forever home for the animals."
A few of these animals had been owned by private families who thought it would be cool to raise a tiger or lion. From cute five-pounders, in a few years the cats had grown to 1100 pounds...quite impossible to house and feed for a private family. And no, I don't think people should be able to buy these animals as pets. Anyway, families would call the sanctuary or local zoo to come get the cat which at some point became capable of devouring the family. Some zoos called the sanctuary to see if they could provide a safe old-age type facility for animals no longer able to live in a zoo. From circuses and other entertainment venues owners would call to see if their animals could live out their lives at the sanctuary.
During the tours one is only four feet from a man-eating tiger, protected by two 12-foot fences. The guide, very knowledgeable about animals and college-educated in biology, walked between the fences carrying a bucket of turkey legs.
Once you've heard it you do not forget the sound of a 1700 pound tiger chomping down on a turkey leg, the bone snapping in two, sounding like the sound of a Kit Kat bar being snapped apart in an echo chamber. One big guy took the turkey leg from the guide and there was silence. The guide put her hands on her hips and said, "Hey, you'd didn't even chew that up. You just swallowed it whole." It gives one a new perspective on the power of these big cats.
To access more pictures and information about this very important sanctuary please go to:
www.nationaltigersanctuary.org.
We are not close to home yet and there were several more exciting local stops on our meandering trip before returning home to Indiana but this is enough for now.
And that's what I think about it.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Fall Break - Part 2 - Ft. Leonard Wood, MO
After a couple of days in Jefferson City we continued driving southwest into the Ozark Mountains.
Several years ago I had determined that there were several signs of Old Age that were indisputable. Things like having padded toilet seats, thermostats set at 78 degrees, and bus trips to Branson, Missouri. I had told the daughters, only partly in jest, that if we ever went to Branson they should just shoot us and put us out of our misery, that when that trip happened the end of meaningful life had passed on. We didn't tell anyone, especially the daughters, but Jim had made reservations at the Savannah Inn in Branson for three nights. To this day we are not sure why.
We checked in, put our suitcases in the room and went out for steak dinner.
After dinner we drove down the main street, slowly, taking in every hotel, restaurant, souvenir store, theater and busload of 'seniors.' We drove back to the hotel, spent the night and sped out of town the next morning. There was not one reason to spend any time there, according to our interests. Too many people in too small a space. Too many old people impersonating singing stars of the 50s and 60s. Too many stuffed Triggers. Brady lunch with Greg Brady; Sons of the Pioneers; Hughes Brothers; Roy Clark; The Texas Tenors, and on and on, and of course, what center of entertainment would be complete without the Dixie Stampede. Oh yes, I could hardly wait to drive away. We breathed a sigh of relief as we drove back into the Ozarks.
This is the lovely entrance to our hotel in Branson.
Our next stop was Fort Leonard Wood, the largest military base in the state. I like military bases. They are sprawling affairs, miles and miles of barracks and parade grounds, museums and varying levels of residential areas. One of my friends who lived there a time while her husband was in the service said the nickname for the place was Fort Lost-in-the-Woods.
Call me strange but I am fascinated by military installations.
This is a portable bridge.
Jim had a flashback at the grouping of World War II-era barracks (see photo). He chuckled when he realized that there were about half the number of bunk bed cots in the barracks museum that he remembered although he had a little room to himself right inside the door so I'm not sure what his complaint was. The barracks of the modern military look more like college dorms. Brick, multi-storied, without the common sleeping areas the buildings make a grand impression on the visitor.
Visitors are welcome. Drive around until 9PM after which you have to have military personnel with you. We didn't plan to stay that long. At the edge of the public areas we were stopped by a sign with read, "NO POV BEYOND THIS POINT." It took me a few minutes to figure out that the sign meant no personally owned vehicles. Which meant us. Beyond the sign and the very high, razor-covered fence we heard the sound of gunfire. Or thought we did. On a military base the imagination runs wild.
While we were there the fort newspaper noted that Dutchman's Liquidators and Daisy's Health Spa were off-limits for military personnel. Also, in the complaint section, was a note that parking was nearly impossible to procure at the base library for story-time. It's just like life anywhere in the country, I mused.
On the map an arrow pointed to the "Outdoor Adventure Center" which I'm sure gave many enlisted personnel pause.
Around the museum area are memorials to Ft. Leonard Wood soldiers who had died in battle from each of the branches of the service. Listed on bronze plaques the names seem to go on and on. At each memorial I walked slowly around stopping at each list of names and reading each one of them silently to myself. It seemed like the least I could do for a soldier who gave his life for the country. I thought about the family and friends each had left behind and who stilled grieved for them.
Fort Leonard Wood trains in the area of chemical, biological, radiological and nuclear warfare. Pretty bad stuff. Anyway, I always feel proud to be an American when I'm on a military base.
And so we left FLW...as I've affectionately come to refer to it. And that's what I think about it.
Several years ago I had determined that there were several signs of Old Age that were indisputable. Things like having padded toilet seats, thermostats set at 78 degrees, and bus trips to Branson, Missouri. I had told the daughters, only partly in jest, that if we ever went to Branson they should just shoot us and put us out of our misery, that when that trip happened the end of meaningful life had passed on. We didn't tell anyone, especially the daughters, but Jim had made reservations at the Savannah Inn in Branson for three nights. To this day we are not sure why.
We checked in, put our suitcases in the room and went out for steak dinner.
After dinner we drove down the main street, slowly, taking in every hotel, restaurant, souvenir store, theater and busload of 'seniors.' We drove back to the hotel, spent the night and sped out of town the next morning. There was not one reason to spend any time there, according to our interests. Too many people in too small a space. Too many old people impersonating singing stars of the 50s and 60s. Too many stuffed Triggers. Brady lunch with Greg Brady; Sons of the Pioneers; Hughes Brothers; Roy Clark; The Texas Tenors, and on and on, and of course, what center of entertainment would be complete without the Dixie Stampede. Oh yes, I could hardly wait to drive away. We breathed a sigh of relief as we drove back into the Ozarks.
This is the lovely entrance to our hotel in Branson.
Our next stop was Fort Leonard Wood, the largest military base in the state. I like military bases. They are sprawling affairs, miles and miles of barracks and parade grounds, museums and varying levels of residential areas. One of my friends who lived there a time while her husband was in the service said the nickname for the place was Fort Lost-in-the-Woods.
Call me strange but I am fascinated by military installations.
This is a portable bridge.
Jim had a flashback at the grouping of World War II-era barracks (see photo). He chuckled when he realized that there were about half the number of bunk bed cots in the barracks museum that he remembered although he had a little room to himself right inside the door so I'm not sure what his complaint was. The barracks of the modern military look more like college dorms. Brick, multi-storied, without the common sleeping areas the buildings make a grand impression on the visitor.
Visitors are welcome. Drive around until 9PM after which you have to have military personnel with you. We didn't plan to stay that long. At the edge of the public areas we were stopped by a sign with read, "NO POV BEYOND THIS POINT." It took me a few minutes to figure out that the sign meant no personally owned vehicles. Which meant us. Beyond the sign and the very high, razor-covered fence we heard the sound of gunfire. Or thought we did. On a military base the imagination runs wild.
While we were there the fort newspaper noted that Dutchman's Liquidators and Daisy's Health Spa were off-limits for military personnel. Also, in the complaint section, was a note that parking was nearly impossible to procure at the base library for story-time. It's just like life anywhere in the country, I mused.
On the map an arrow pointed to the "Outdoor Adventure Center" which I'm sure gave many enlisted personnel pause.
Around the museum area are memorials to Ft. Leonard Wood soldiers who had died in battle from each of the branches of the service. Listed on bronze plaques the names seem to go on and on. At each memorial I walked slowly around stopping at each list of names and reading each one of them silently to myself. It seemed like the least I could do for a soldier who gave his life for the country. I thought about the family and friends each had left behind and who stilled grieved for them.
Fort Leonard Wood trains in the area of chemical, biological, radiological and nuclear warfare. Pretty bad stuff. Anyway, I always feel proud to be an American when I'm on a military base.
And so we left FLW...as I've affectionately come to refer to it. And that's what I think about it.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Fall Break - Part 1
A few years ago, after moving to Indiana, we followed the advice on the license plates that read, "Wander Indiana." That roaming made us somewhat familiar with our new state of residence. Recently we realized that we knew the geography of the country to the east, southeast, north, northeast and a little south but had skipped over going near-west (young man that we weren't) and had hopped over to the west coast, missing a large portion of the country in-between.
Upon further discussion, we realized that we had seen more foreign capitals than we had the capitals of our own 50 states. Memory served that we had been in the large metropolitan area of many states but not so the political centers. To remedy this lapse in our education we headed to the closest capital west, Jefferson City, Missouri.
There was no agenda just a slow meandering west around St. Louis and into the heartland of Missouri where the leaves were at their Fall-color finest.
Jefferson City, a city of 43,000on the Missouri River, was named after Thomas Jefferson. The Osage Indians met the pioneers as the pioneers were heading west. We all know how that turned out for the Osage.
Some pretty important people have come from Jefferson City: football and baseball players, Nobel Laureates, poets. Seven colleges and universities have branches there.
Our stay included two-nights at the circular hotel downtown. Choosing the up-charge, we had a view of the capital. And the state parking deck. The police station and the jail. Because the hotel was not square, all the
rooms were shaped like parallelograms. A lamp was required to navigate the angles with shins intact.The restaurant at the top of the hotel, accessible by key-card only, was quite nice. I don't know how far the calamari had to travel to get to the mid-west but it was delicious.We were excited to find a community theater that had a performance while we were there and ordered tickets over the internet by simply typing in our name and the number 2. No pre-payment required. The Stained Glass Theatre of Mid-Missouri is, as you might have guessed, a Christian-based group. The play being offered while we were there was, "Slowly I turned, step by step, inch by inch..." set in the courtyard of a "small, flourishing Koffee Shoppe, which is cloistered among other businesses along a cobbled stone lane in a small villa in Little Italy, USA." The 150 seats were mostly filled. The director proudly introduced herself before Act 1.We didn't see her again. And then the emoting began. Over the top gestures, shrill voices, it was a sight to behold and hear. We stayed for all three acts because, well...it was the only thing to do in Jefferson City that evening. Great potential with the theater itself; some work needed to be done with the troupe. And yet, the crowd loved it. Were they all relatives, I wondered?
The next day we spent at the capital, a lovely building and grounds that appropriately reflect and honor the people of the state of Missouri. Around the perimeter of the capital are memorials to all those Missourians who served in wars, even the War Between the States, which split families apart as sons chose different sides of the battle. Inside there were murals and photos and hands-on exhibits for kids...and husbands. One alcove presented the history of women from Missouri who had become famous: actors, aviators, educators, writers. I thought the alcove was a little far away from the rotunda but was pleased that these women had been honored.
And in every direction ran warrens of long marble hallways with ten-foot doors leading off into offices of the inter sanctum of state government.
It reminded me that my own father's photo hangs in the state house in Columbus, Ohio, albeit a group shot of the pages working in the senate. Still there he is, a fresh-faced teenager with big plans for his life.
Jefferson City was a good start to our meandering through Missouri. And that's what I think about it.
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