Sadie appears to be a murderer

Yesterday I was walking up the path to the main offices. No one was around to talk to, so naturally I was talking to myself. I said something very witty, cracked up, then actually fist bumped myself. Only slightly worse than giving yourself a high five. Sadie McIver: killing it since 1994.
I'm sorry I haven't been writing regularly. I've been crazy busy what with readying the preschool (the kids have their first day on Monday!!), or helping with cheetahs and other animals around the reserve. I am simply exhausted.
Which is what lead me to commit murder.
No not really, but I bet you are wondering about the reasoning behind the title of this post, aren't you?
Picture me holding a bloody knife. Nail beds stained red, hands and arms covered in gore, laughing excitedly as I wave around a chunk of severed spinal cord.
Yes. It's true. Yesterday I helped cut up meat to feed the cheetahs, and managed to tear out a piece of spinal cord which is just cool. Spinal cords look like string cheese. Only with more tiny veins running through them.
I took the videos I posted on facebook as I stood in the back of the flatbed throwing hunks of donkey flesh to the rapidly approaching cats. No easy feat. You try standing up in a truck that's going 40 across rough terrain, all the while trying to point your camera in the general direction of the cheetahs. Oh and trust me, a lot of the footage I got was of nothing but the ground, having missed my target entirely.
Being out in the desert is pretty interesting. Its cold enough every night to sleep under a comforter, and when I wake up I always think "Oh we're going to have a cool day aren't we? Better grab my cardigan!" By noon I'm sweating profusely and on the verge of heatstroke. Then evening roles around and I'm wearing a scarf, complaining that I'm chilled. Well no, not complaining. More observing. 
At night a group of us will wander off, beers in hand, laughing about nothing as we stare up at the blackened Namibian sky, alight with billions of stars. We point out Mars, or Jupiter, and any constellations we know, our eyes trying to find every piece of beauty in the world around us. And then I become increasingly paranoid that a leopard is surely lurking nearby, ready to pounce. I'm not sure if that adds or subtracts to the magic of the moment.
The cheetahs are pretty wild. There are a few that were raised with humans, and those can be brushed and have other human contact. Most of them we have tried to keep distant from people. We feed them, but the general idea is to be able to release them back to the wild one day. The reserve is HUGE. I will get an exact acreage for you at some point.
Last night it poured rain (you wouldn't know it, the ground is still parched.) and I worried about the cheetahs. I know it's natural for them to be exposed to the elements, but the image of all those poor, soaking wet kitties just made me sad. Upon further inspection I now know that the rain did not phase them whatsoever.
Today is my day off. I have spent it nursing my blistered feet, reading The Zombie Survival Guide, and drinking numerous instant cappuccinos. I also took a nap.
Anyway, I must go. I need to review the proper stance for hand to hand combat with the living dead. Just in case the apocalypse happens while I'm here.  

Sadie Crosses Three Continents in 33 Hours

Today was my first day in Namibia.
For those of you who do not know, I am living at a cheetah reserve for three weeks, working in a preschool on base. The preschool is for the children of the staff on the reserve. I will also get to work partly with cheetahs. After my three weeks here I will go on safari with my family in the Okavango Delta, and the Caprivi Strip. This will take us through Namibia, Botswana, and Zimbabwe.
But first let me tell you about the journey getting here.
I began in North America, flying for nine hours from Seattle to London, England. Then it was an eleven hour flight to South Africa. Did I mention the six hour layovers between these flights? Then onward for another two hours to Namibia. Three continents, four countries, and a total of thirty-three hours.
Me at the beginning of the journey: "Wow. What an adventure I'm on. What fun. Airplanes are so amazing. Wow. Look at all the people! Everyone is going somewhere. It's just amazing. Just wow."
Me three hours in: "I hate traveling. I don't even know why I bother. Airports are the worst thing in the world. People need to control their children. I hate kids. There are too many people in the world. We need a new plague. This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me."
Me upon arrival: "I made it! It wasn't even that bad. I'm barely even tired. I'm in Africa! This is the best thing that's ever happened to me."
You get the idea.
I spent most of my day getting to know my way around. The reserve is huge. I watched a cheetah feeding. Famers sell their old horses and donkeys to the reserve which are then butchered and fed to the cats. I know, it sounds a bit brutal, but it is what it is.
The cats are gorgeous. I'll try to get some pictures soon.
Walking around here at night feels a little bit like skydiving. Adrenalin rush. Because after stories and stories about leopards, cobras, baboons, and warthogs I am a bit wary. If I suddenly stop writing blogs without explanation, know that I have fallen victim to some horrific animal inflicted death.
On that happy note, goodnight.