This video features Viggo Mortensen and Cheryl Crow. By Moving Cloud.
http://vimeo.com/8441353
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
New Years Sale
..
wildcatranch books for sale from criminalistics,computers,fiction,ask 4 details www.amazon.com/shops/A16TVDXN6BDU7Q and www.amazon.com/shops/viral_dragon
We may have some that aren't listed including computer parts for those of you who build or rebuild them.
It's a new year coming right around the corner. I've made my New Year's Resolution...Have you??
wildcatranch books for sale from criminalistics,computers,fiction,ask 4 details www.amazon.com/shops/A16TVDXN6BDU7Q and www.amazon.com/shops/viral_dragon
We may have some that aren't listed including computer parts for those of you who build or rebuild them.
It's a new year coming right around the corner. I've made my New Year's Resolution...Have you??
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Equestrian legal questions/answers
Seminar hosted by Equestrian Professional.com on December 14, 2009
http://www.equestrianprofessional.com/public/590.cfm
Audio Replay - 35 minutes of lecture 15 minute Q&A
Important legal information for Equine Professionals
Equine Liability
Contracts
Collections
Defamation
Q&A
http://www.equestrianprofessional.com/public/590.cfm
Audio Replay - 35 minutes of lecture 15 minute Q&A
Important legal information for Equine Professionals
Equine Liability
Contracts
Collections
Defamation
Q&A
Monday, December 14, 2009
Join my Yahoo Group to keep informed
wildcatsanctuary2005@yahoo.com has invited you to join wildcatsanctuaryranch
[http://groups.yahoo.com/group/wildcatsanctuaryranch/] on Yahoo! Groups,
the best way to discover and share information and advice with others. All for free.
See for yourself why millions of people are members of Yahoo! Groups. But
hurry. This invitation expires in 30 days.
Join this group:
[http://groups.yahoo.com/group/wildcatsanctuaryranch/] on Yahoo! Groups,
the best way to discover and share information and advice with others. All for free.
See for yourself why millions of people are members of Yahoo! Groups. But
hurry. This invitation expires in 30 days.
Join this group:
Santa Baby Poem shared
Santa Baby, the Equestrian Version
by Therese Jardine
Santa baby, slip a saddle under the tree,
For me.
been an awful good girl,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
Santa baby, a Crewcab Dually too,
Light blue.
I'll wait up for you dear,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
Think of all the fun I've missed,
Think of all the horse shows that I had to skip,
Next year I could be just as good,
If you'll check off my Christmas list,
Santa baby, could you have bought,
a brand new trailer ??- that's not a lot,
Been an angel all year,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
Santa honey, there's one thing I really do need,
a Steed
Nicely Pedigreed,
Santa honey, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
Santa cutie, and fill my stocking with hay,
And grain.
In the loft would be fine,
Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight.
Come and trim my Christmas tree,
With bits and spurs bought at Tiffany's,
I really do believe in you,
Let's see if you believe in me,
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing,
A ring.
The covered riding kind,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight,
Hurry down the chimney tonight,
Hurry, tonight.
by Therese Jardine
Santa baby, slip a saddle under the tree,
For me.
been an awful good girl,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
Santa baby, a Crewcab Dually too,
Light blue.
I'll wait up for you dear,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
Think of all the fun I've missed,
Think of all the horse shows that I had to skip,
Next year I could be just as good,
If you'll check off my Christmas list,
Santa baby, could you have bought,
a brand new trailer ??- that's not a lot,
Been an angel all year,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
Santa honey, there's one thing I really do need,
a Steed
Nicely Pedigreed,
Santa honey, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
Santa cutie, and fill my stocking with hay,
And grain.
In the loft would be fine,
Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight.
Come and trim my Christmas tree,
With bits and spurs bought at Tiffany's,
I really do believe in you,
Let's see if you believe in me,
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing,
A ring.
The covered riding kind,
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight,
Hurry down the chimney tonight,
Hurry, tonight.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
A page from an 87 yr old. horsewoman's journal
A page from an 87 yr old. horsewoman's journal
This is for all the women here who will no doubt shed a tear as they nod in agreement and for the men in the group who might just understand why we do what we do. I hope my fingers still work well enough that I may write something like this when I am 87.
I Ride
I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However as many women who ride know it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power and empowerment. Being able to do things you might have once considered
out of reach or ability. I have considered this as I shovel
manure, fill water barrels in the cold rain, wait for the
vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before getting down to the business of drinking a
cold beer after a long ride.
The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for
dedication. At least I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it 'the sickness'. It's a sickness I've had since I was a small girl bouncing my model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse. Most of the women I ride with understand the meaning of 'the sickness'. It's not a sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and, in some ways, who we are as women and human beings.
I ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle, whistle up my dog and I ride. I breathe in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and savor the movement of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile rides my sunscreen smeared face. I pull my ball cap down and let the real world fade into the tracks my horse leaves in the dust.
Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My
gelding flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell
his sweat and it is perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of the walk and the movement of the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand softens with the warmth.
I consider the simple statement; I ride. I think of all I do
because I ride. Climb granite slabs, wade into a freezing lake, race a friend through the Manzanita all the while laughing and feeling my heart in my chest. Other days just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real accomplishment. Still I ride, no matter how tired or how
much my seat bones or any of the numerous horse related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel better for doing so.
The beauty I've seen because I ride amazes me. I've ridden out to find lakes that remain for the most part, unseen. Caves, dark and cold beside rivers full and rolling are the scenes I see in my dreams. The Granite Stairway at Echo Summit, bald eagles on the wing and bobcats on the prowl add to the empowerment and joy in my heart.
I think of the people, mostly women, I've met. I consider how
competent they all are. Not a weenie amongst the bunch.. We haul 40ft rigs, we back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp. Tend the horses. We cook and keep safe. We understand and love our companions, the horse. We respect each other and those we encounter on
the trail. We know that if you are out there riding, you also
shovel, fill, wait and doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel with out makeup or hair gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness' and probably, when you were a small girl, you bounced a model horse while you dreamed of riding a real one.
"My treasures do not chink or glitter, They gleam in the sun and neigh in the night"
This is for all the women here who will no doubt shed a tear as they nod in agreement and for the men in the group who might just understand why we do what we do. I hope my fingers still work well enough that I may write something like this when I am 87.
I Ride
I ride. That seems like such a simple statement. However as many women who ride know it is really a complicated matter. It has to do with power and empowerment. Being able to do things you might have once considered
out of reach or ability. I have considered this as I shovel
manure, fill water barrels in the cold rain, wait for the
vet/farrier/electrician/hay delivery, change a tire on a horse trailer by the side of the freeway, or cool a gelding out before getting down to the business of drinking a
cold beer after a long ride.
The time, the money, the effort it takes to ride calls for
dedication. At least I call it dedication. Both my ex-husbands call it 'the sickness'. It's a sickness I've had since I was a small girl bouncing my model horses and dreaming of the day I would ride a real horse. Most of the women I ride with understand the meaning of 'the sickness'. It's not a sport. It's not a hobby. It's what we do and, in some ways, who we are as women and human beings.
I ride. I hook up my trailer and load my gelding. I haul to some trailhead somewhere, unload, saddle, whistle up my dog and I ride. I breathe in the air, watch the sunlight filter through the trees and savor the movement of my horse. My shoulders relax. A smile rides my sunscreen smeared face. I pull my ball cap down and let the real world fade into the tracks my horse leaves in the dust.
Time slows. Flying insects buzz loudly, looking like fairies. My
gelding flicks his ears and moves down the trail. I can smell
his sweat and it is perfume to my senses. Time slows. The rhythm of the walk and the movement of the leaves become my focus. My saddle creaks and the leather rein in my hand softens with the warmth.
I consider the simple statement; I ride. I think of all I do
because I ride. Climb granite slabs, wade into a freezing lake, race a friend through the Manzanita all the while laughing and feeling my heart in my chest. Other days just the act of mounting and dismounting can be a real accomplishment. Still I ride, no matter how tired or how
much my seat bones or any of the numerous horse related injuries hurt. I ride. And I feel better for doing so.
The beauty I've seen because I ride amazes me. I've ridden out to find lakes that remain for the most part, unseen. Caves, dark and cold beside rivers full and rolling are the scenes I see in my dreams. The Granite Stairway at Echo Summit, bald eagles on the wing and bobcats on the prowl add to the empowerment and joy in my heart.
I think of the people, mostly women, I've met. I consider how
competent they all are. Not a weenie amongst the bunch.. We haul 40ft rigs, we back into tight spaces without clipping a tree. We set up camp. Tend the horses. We cook and keep safe. We understand and love our companions, the horse. We respect each other and those we encounter on
the trail. We know that if you are out there riding, you also
shovel, fill, wait and doctor. Your hands are a little rough and you travel with out makeup or hair gel. You do without to afford the 'sickness' and probably, when you were a small girl, you bounced a model horse while you dreamed of riding a real one.
"My treasures do not chink or glitter, They gleam in the sun and neigh in the night"
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
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