Wednesday, 18 May 2011

A Paint Horse Called Eagle

by Sandy Paiement on Sunday, February 7, 2010 at 1:16pm
A Paint Horse Called Eagle

This is the story of how a young horse came to be called "Eagle".....


The hot sun had been beating down on the vast, dry midwest prairie. As it was only very early spring, there was not much grass yet and the small herd of horses were hard pressed to find water to drink. But they somehow knew that conditions would change soon, and they seemed to be patiently waiting for that change...milling about and sniffing the air.


Suddenly, the sun became blocked out by huge, black thunderheads. The hot air seemed to bristle and the horses grew wide eyed and restless. Crack! The lightning ripped through the sky and struck a big ponderosa pine tree, splitting it in two and setting it ablaze.


The horses were stricken with fear and set to running as fast as they could from the burning tree. The water poured down from the heavens and soon there were great torrents of water flowing through the plains.


Soon, the wind died down and the rain stopped falling and once again, the sun's warm rays danced off the prairie.


A young warrior named "Walking Dove" had been caught in this great storm, and had taken cover beneath his buffalo robe. When the rain finally ended, he picked his things up and headed for home.


On his way, he came upon a sight that troubled him. There, out on the open range, lay a newborn paint horse foal, struggling to get to its feet. "The storm must have frightened the horses and they've all run off, leaving this baby behind", Walking Dove thought to himself. "Poor thing hasn't got a chance if those horses don't come back for him."


He started toward the foal to help it out of its dilemma. Just then, he heard a loud whoosh! A great eagle flew over his head and charged straight towards the young horse. Walking Dove couldn't believe what he saw next, for that eagle had grasped the foal by the neck and tried to fly off with it! Of course, the horse was too heavy for the eagle to carry and the eagle soon gave up trying. However, it seemed to get enough lift to raise the young horse to its feet.


Walking Dove ran to help the young paint, for there was blood all over its neck where the eagle had sunk his talons in the soft young flesh. "You are a very brave horse indeed!" said Walking Dove. "I am a warrior and you shall become this warrior's horse in battle! I give you the name "Eagle" for you have fought the mighty eagle and have won".


The young warrior called "Walking Dove" soon became named "Mighty Swift Rider", as he had raised this fine young paint horse to be the fastest and bravest horse in all the land, for many times they would be first in the charge against the enemy or the great plains buffalo.


Eagle the paint horse was loved by everybody for her fearless, but gentle nature.


There came a day when this great horse fell ill and died, but the memories of all who loved Eagle would keep her alive forever.


1989.......

Written in loving memory of Eagle, the paint mare.

By Sandra Paiement

Christine Tipper's mom



(written for Christine after the death of our beloved Eagle)
 

Life on the Edge - an update

  by Sandy Paiement on Saturday, January 30, 2010 at 11:28pm

So now the construction is going full steam ahead in my little refuge. No more will I see the deer, the coyote, and the beautiful swans.

Last year at this time, there were hundreds of Trumpeter Swans that rested here in this place, and this year, I have seen none - not one. What a shame!

And the eagles - the Bald Eagles are not here either in the numbers they were last year.

So now, where does one go to see all this beautiful wild life - certainly not in and around the municipalities that have chosen progress over nature.

What a shame!





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Videos

by Sandy Paiement on Friday, January 29, 2010 at 9:56pm
 
Yeah Yeah - I know ... you guys out there are all probably wondering where the video show is, right?

Well, DJ Sandy got a little sidetracked tonight, folks. So - if'n you'all don't mind, I just might put all this video posting off until tomorrow.


...or maybe Sunday....or maybe someday....when I get around to it.


Stay tuned, it will come!
 
 
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The Mount Baker Experience

by Sandy Paiement on Monday, January 25, 2010 at 12:02pm

It was a hot July 1, in the year 1972 1973 - funny how it is so hard to remember dates as you get older.

We were a party of six climbers, and made our way to the trailhead the evening before the hike. We threw our sleeping bags down on the gravel parking lot and oh God - I think that was the toughest part of this sojourn.


Up at 3 a.m., we packed our gear and started up the trail - in the darkness. Without coffee, without breakfast! Yeoww - that was excruciatingly painful. At least I had my cigarettes - aahh.


With the dawn fully broken at 6:00 am, and after three hours trekking up a steep muddy trail, we came to where the snow line began and took a break. Oh my - finally we made coffee. We didn't linger there for too long, and each just had one little cup of coffee, along with something to eat, which came in a bag and stirred into melted snow in a pot on the meager little bunzen burner flame.


Now on the snow, and the trail becoming steeper, we headed up a vast snowfield, and within an hour or so, were stepping up the toe of the glacier. We passed a few people who had camped on the snowfield overnight and were getting ready to head up the mountain. Oh - they had ropes and axes and all kinds of climbing gear, and here were the six of us flying by them as if we were on a stroll in the park. All we had were ski poles and crampons, which we carried in our packs.


As we climbed higher, large cracks appeared in the glacier - it was tough going, because we had to traverse around these crevasses, looking for a safe place to cross. After a couple of hours, we made it over to the north side of the craggy rock pinnacles just below the saddle area, the crater wall. There, we looked down into a giant hole, from which steam could be seen venting from a little frozen lake in the caldera. That was very exciting.


By noon, we made it to the saddle and once again, had a bite to eat. At this point, three of our party decided to stay behind, feeling they just could not face the final surge to the top on the south face, which is a at full forty-five degree inclination. I was not one of them. Terry Halverson, my husband, Guenter and I continued on.


Strapping on our crampons for the final ascent, we headed up. The air is very thin up there, and it was necessary to slow the pace down to a crawl - basically taking one step, pushing up and counting off three to five seconds before placing the next foot. And each step was really tiny. About half way up, an hour later, Guenter fell behind, having trouble breathing, and Terry also slowed down because, brave soul, he decided to carry his skis up this incredibly steep mountain, so he could enjoy the thrill of skiing down.


So it was, about an hour later, I placed my feet upon the summit and was the first one to make it there. Wow! The wind was whipping up the snow and stinging my face, and if you wanted to cry tears of joy, you didn't dare, because they would freeze to your skin, it was so cold up there. I was the only human being in this majestic place for a little while, at least. Terry and Guenter eventually made it up about ten minutes behind me. It was so cold, the camera had a frozen lens and shutter and was not functional. What a shame, we didn't have photos to keep to commemorate this moment.


After a brief 10 minutes of jubilation and high fiving, we headed back down, Terry strapping on his skis, and Guenter and I placing our jackets under our rear ends and bum sliding down the glacier. Terry disappeared beyond the saddle, and I had to stop myself from sliding as the fear of falling off this glacier over the cliffs at its edge, and into the void bordering the snowy slope gripped me. Rolling over onto my belly, and digging my ski pole into the ice, I eventually slowed, and continued sliding cautiously the rest of the way down. What had taken two hours to climb was a only a few minutes coming down. What a rush!


Of course, even more caution was taken as the sliding continued down the vast glacier with the crevasses appearing out of nowhere! Foolish or fearless - I leave that to the reader to decide. At the time, I didn't seem to consider it as anything else but fun!


A total of fourteen and a half hours were spent on this hike, eleven hours going up and three and a half hours coming down, and had lots of time left over in the day to have dinner and lots of beer at our campsite, and celebrate Canada Day.


...and I have been celebrating Mount Baker ever since!
 
 
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Just Fun!

by Sandy Paiement on Wednesday, January 20, 2010 at 11:37pm

 
Between the time I thought of writing this note and actually sitting down to write it, I forgot what I was going to write about.

Ahhhh....old age


OK I remember....




I pride myself on being different.

There was a time when a bunch of us, my neighbours, Christine and her boyfriend John, and Big Wave Dave was one of my neighbours, booked a trip down the Thompson River on a rafting adventure. From Spences Bridge to Lytton. What a hoot that was.


Big Wave Dave worked the rafts for Kumsheen Whitewater Adventures, and got us all a special deal - half the price and twice the fun.


We had this huge raft full of people from all over the place, and when the raft trip commenced from Spences Bridge, the river was fairly calm and the rafting guide talked about the river and how to survive if we happened to tip...and then asked each of us to introduce ourselves and talk a little about who we were and what we did. I was sitting at the very back of the raft at this point, and he started with the person beside me and went around the boat in the other direction, saying, ok and you are ??....

Well - everyone said their names and what they did for a living - everyone.

When it finally came around to my turn, I stood up in the raft and said " My name is sandy-hawk walk in bog-deer stalking-friend of the coyote - and I love all the little animals" What a fucking riot! Everyone was in stitches and Christine, sitting beside me was about to die from laughing so hard.


God, I love to have fun!.

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Rambling on my mind ...."Renaissance" [for Ted]


by Sandy Paiement on Wednesday, January 20, 2010 at 10:31pm
sorry, Eric - I stole your title.

This note is probably going to be about a multitude of things that whiz through my thoughts every day.

So here goes...



I am reminded of the time I went through a 'renaissance' back sometime in the mid 1980's.

Prior to this, about 1983, I had left my 'husband' (who never actually married me) and went to live on my own with my then 5 year old daughter. After about 4 months, we reconnected and I moved back to the house we had lived in since 1977. He stayed at a friend's place, while I occupied the house. It was only a matter of about two or three months, and we were back together again. I had felt that perhaps we had a reason to get back together again, and it seemed at the time like it was 'love', or was it? I think it had to do with being comfortable and having the family, he, me and Christine, intact.

We had a lot of issues to resolve, and we both tried to do that, but - alas a leopard doesn't change its spots, and neither did he.

But, during this time we did try. The Renaissance Course was a part of that process. Frank took the course first, and then convinced me to register. It was a three day course, where they basically locked you into a room with a bunch of other losers who had emotional issues. What Frank didn't count on was that I would really benefit from this in that I would re-connect with myself, and learn to love myself. Oh, he knew that was the purpose, but what he didn't know was that I would love myself enough to know that the bullshit he was tossing at me would now not stick to me.

The most powerful part of this course was a technique using visualization. This involved everyone sitting on the floor in a relaxed position, different for everyone, closing eyes and letting the facilitator guide you through a process of regression therapy.

In this process, we were asked to imagine ourselves being led back in time to a point where we didn't feel emotional pain. (for me, it was all the way back to the womb...and beyond) I really don't remember - but - we were asked to then move forward to that first painful and hurtful event that changed us from innocent to wounded. We were then asked to imagine that we would reach down and pick up this 'wounded' child and hold it, and protect it from the painful experience. To love that little child. To make a promise to remove that 'child' from all harm.

I have to tell you, this really worked for me. I ended up loving myself right out of our relationship. I left Frank in 1988 and took my then 9 year old daughter to live with me in a little apartment in Richmond. However, I didn't move far away, Christine was close to her house and stayed in the same school. I made a vow that I would never inflict the kind of pain upon her that had been inflicted upon me. I never hit that girl. I didn't cuss out her dad, who was and is very precious to her, I maintained a good relationship with him and honoured his status as my daughter's father, and still do to this day. I also made a vow to never have another relationship with a man as long as my daughter was growing up and needed both her parents. And I kept that vow to this day.

Such is the person I have become. and I like me.

....to be continued




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Journey of the Mind, Heart and Soul...

by Sandy Paiement on Tuesday, January 19, 2010 at 10:51am

This is the workshop I have registered to attend. I am looking forward to this event and the inner reflections that will certainly ensue. I have a strong intuition that I must have been a healer in a past life. We'll see.

Past Lives, Karma, and Reincarnation Workshop Feb 2, 2010


We are the accumulation of many lifetimes, and their effects are locked into our four archetypical energies: mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual. We emanate characteristics of past life influences on many levels into this lifetime, affecting our consciousness daily. Dr. Jelusich gives a lecture encompassing Past Lives and their basis in understanding who we are in this experiential workshop, including the Karma we incarnate with. Reincarnation will be discussed with regard to the attributes and skill sets we are born with that most closely associate us with the lessons we have to learn in each life. A CD of the lecture is an available option for attendees.


After the lecture, Dr. Jelusich will give each attendee a past life evaluation, ranging from soul's purpose, past life experiences, and pertinent information regarding that person's karma and path in this lifetime. A free CD is provided of the evaluations.

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Dr. Jelusich has been teaching, giving lectures, workshops and private sessions for over 20 years. He served as Dean of Administration and Core Faculty at the California Institute for Human Science, is on the Board of Directors and remains as core faculty. His Ph.D. is in Human Science, and his research work is in light and sound, and the blending of metaphysics and science. Richard is a gifted intuitive and adept energy worker, accurately reading how the soul-quality infuses itself into our waking personality.

http://www.lightnews.org/home.html


AN ASIDE - TSAWASSEN


You might have wondered why I am drawn to this place - it has been one of my retreats for over 20 years now.


On my many horse outings during this period, I would walk my horse through the reserve - in the fields behind the houses, and on the path beside the beach. I always felt very peaceful on these excursions, and for some strange reason, always felt very connected with my inner spirit.


A particularly special time, riding the path one very early spring day, when the little scrubby wind ravaged trees still had no shoots yet emerging from their scraggy little branches, I watched as a little bird hovered over us (Eagle and I) briefly and then darted away quickly. I followed it with my eyes and watched it alight into one of these little trees some distance away. I moved Eagle into a very relaxed trot and approached this tree, then slowed to take a look at this little bird. My heart jumped out of my chest, I am sure, when I gazed upon the most beautiful blue I had ever seen on a bird. My God - what I was looking at here was a Mountain Bluebird. Once on the verge of extinction, and never ever seen on the Coast. Stunningly beautiful! How lucky I am to have enjoyed this, and am still able to enjoy this memory to this day.


Eagle was an Overo Paint piebald faced horse, who was always admired by the children there and they would all come running up to me and talk about my horse, and I could see their little faces light up when they touched my mare on the nose.


A very special place for me.

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