CarolineGerardo haiku, photos, journal

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Pumpkin into a Carriage

Pumpkin spirit

You have the courage, magic, ability to change the pumpkin into a carriage.
Return to writing, exercise, work and savor beauty to create.

pumpkin lady

Friday, October 17, 2014



Whale released her from entrails
Ebola spreads on sheet sails
Behavioral Health misnomer,
a lie, do not admit your butterfly
into a belly of rotten flies.

Climb, swim, work ahead to change
There's no modern science for the brain.
Trust no pharma reducing mental pain.

So we will paint over
rework the canvas
Jonah resurrected

Come out turtle from your shell
Reject the call of hell

turtle dancing with koi

turtle in my koi pond

turtle planter

turtle and water plants

I'm dealing with dark issues. If I wrote memoir it might be horror. I pray your days are easier. 
Painting top is Albert Pinkham Ryder title Johah resurrected. 

Monday, October 6, 2014

Jam Recipe

The nights cool.
Bad dog ate a winter melon on Saturday.
The melon was larger than her four pound body.
I brought the last one to my sister - my nephews
ate it in their driveway without a napkin.
Juice running down their arms
Alex says, "I've never had one."
Every year I give them a few.
I hadn't planned on sharing with the dogs.

The last sunflowers
Gave to a friend diagnosed with cancer.
She asked me to talk about the
pros and cons of pursuing aggressive treatment.
The Japanese have an intense chemo and radiation that
either the treatment kills you or you recover.
Transfusions, lethargy, days by the toilet bowl are things
I never discussed before.
Surprised how open I could be.

The French plums
Mosquito netting over trees
Unattractive but effective - or
songbirds steal my crops.
I make balls of peanut butter and millet,
fill the feeders with black niger
and elaborate tricks to keep the mice away.
Funny there is barely enough to make jam.
I'll share the recipe with you below.

winter melon from the garden

French plums, perhaps they are Italian the first seed came from NONI

Wash then Cut in half and toss pits 12 lb of ripe plums
4 cups sugar
box pectin
tablespoon almond extract
8 pint jars - sterilized ( boil for 5 minutes jar and lid)

Put plum and sugar in large pot medium heat.
Allow to slow bubble for ten minutes.
Don't let it roll boil- stir to keep from getting a scummy top of bubbles.
Don't let it stick to bottom.
Use a pot with a thicker bottom.
Allow to cool
You are going to cook four times.
This may require a glass of wine and music
The last cooking add the almond extract.
Examine how thick the mixture is.
If it is dense as toothpaste you may not need the pectin.
There is natural pectin in the fruit -
all depends on the scientific qualities
of your soil, sun and water.
I'm an organic gardener.
I suggest you add half the box of sure jell
for the last bubbling to be certain the jam sets correctly.
Read about sterilization and keeping the jars and lids free of any bacterium or
(The complete jars can be placed back into near boiling water to super
seal them BUT sometimes they break and there you have claret colored glass
shards and sticky explosion...)
Label the jars and share the rich taste of homemade jam.

You can strain the skins with a colander on the second cook, (sounds
like Walter White lol)
but I prefer to leave them in. By the time you heat the plums the
fourth time the skins are tiny flecks of burgundy.

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Indian Summer

Writer's desk
A clean desk
is no good omen.
Give me piles of notes
memos about preventing ants

Red sunrise 
Vane points hurricane
Barometric pressure between 
send in the fifty third Squadron

Hot Autumn nights 
Cautantowit caught off guard
Smoky destruction ahead
spells the fortune cookie.

Orange Red  Sunrise photo by Caroline Gerardo

Indian Summer by Jozef Clemonski 1875
Yes I know it is so not politically correct to even say "Indian Summer." I'm part native and find no
offense in sports teams using the image. Lawsuits in general only benefit attorneys. 
Kautantowwit or Cautantowit is the Algonquin god from the southwest... 

Temperature here climbed back up. I long for cool evening walks. I can't wait to wear wool. My sweet gum is already turning, she is confused. When can I set a Fall hearth? Is it dry and hot where you live?  

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Grave in The Rose Garden

Another Grave in the Garden
Hurricane failed to rain?
Leaving passion's steamy heat
whisper then whistle under the covers
like a smoke detector battery gone bad.
Broken on my doorstep
 there's a symbol on the knocker: 
welcome hearts lost in darkness.
If I patch your wings, 
if  I calm your despair,
give me pardon.
Your songs bereft and sad,
make healing grow.
Remember moments when the wind
whips up the canyon lifting chamomile seeds
she's making tea to ease your pain.
Tonight begin a life under the rose garden.
The sun blazes down across the sea.
You came home to me.
Photo of tiny bird on my doorstep this morning.
Flycatcher Fidalgo he was a character in my current
novel in progress. Unknown what happened to him.
 I have a southwestern willow flycatcher pair that
lives in the canyon below me and nests near my fountains. 
They are endangered and don't belong here.
 I wish I knew the cause of death...
This guy is buried under this porcelain plate below the
rose cultivar climber Blair Annabella, my patent 1992 named after daughter.
The rose is hearty. Flowers start pink then the petals blush to cream before they fall.
Hurricane Odile hasn't brought a drop of rain here. 
Are you living somewhere with drought?
 Let me know how you deal with it.