Prayer for Pony

Prayer for Pony Poisoned 

Ancestor of River

I am Cree.
"Trust technology."

What BP?

King of Wind 

Fire In Water
renege Laramie
recall slaughter.

Cool poll hunting horse
sip benzene.
poison in graves,
Corexit anoints clean.

Quarters for gaming,
Sonoco pray with me
toxins leak,
land lives, see.

Bulldoze grandfather,
blast ends hearing,
chant #NODAPL
pipeline disappearing.

Hills sacred
pony I love
buckwheat wine
mourning dove.

Caroline Gerardo copyright November 7 2016

Fall Simmer

I love Fall

Simmer garlic, onions, peppers and squash...

Vegetables picked before I let the chickens out at dawn.

Shush don't point to poultry there's feed in the lower garden.

You'll find it strange if I tell the names of the chooks.

Dixie is a speckled Sussex. She's first. 

Dixie leads a chick band, though she isn't the largest or a rooster. 

Dixie is the daughter of my neighbor's male from his rogue visit.

Yesterday I picked the last pumpkins up from the raised beds, 

they stand guard outside the front gate. 

Chickens will eat pumpkins before Halloween if inside.

Last night coyotes yelped and hollered at three A.M. 

With mag flashlight in hand, 

I went out to have a meeting with them.
They know I have a shotgun.

"Want me to drive down to the barn and settle this?" I yell.

They gather, silent. No snickers about my nightgown.
Answer came from Dr's barn in the canyon where 

puppies cry and the big dogs growl.

Ursula Major and Minor point towards

solar lights in the valley below. 

Glow shares from stars to crescent moon,
platinum against a cloudless dome.

Coyotes look up with me in that moment.

The pack's paws crunch on ash leaves,
scattered on rocks, now become softer.

Coy wolves leave without argument. 

"Try luck with bucks grazing in the oak grove," 

I whisper to their long gone tails. 

Copyright October 8 2016 Caroline Gerardo

Recipe:

3 garlic cloves cut very fine

1 whole onion (type you have) chopped well

1 bell pepper chopped up (more coarse than the first two)

1 carrot chopped fine

saute above in cheap olive oil on medium about a tablespoon of oil

1 cup chopped squash - you pick the type - but peel it

add squash to saute and cook a minute

add 2 cups vegetable stock or chicken stock (don't tell my chickens about the stock)

tablespoon thyme leaves yes not teaspoon

1/2 teaspoon oregano

tiny sea salt to taste start with 1/4 teaspoon depending if stock is salted then none

tablespoon of soy sauce

hot peppers to taste (this amount and type up to YOU)

Allow to simmer

do you have a hot soup blender? use it to cream half the soup

You don't have a soup blender then use your fork best you can

If you like creamy add 1/2 cup greek nonfat yogurt at the end just as you serve

slice basil in threads and place about a tablespoon on top

Yummy soup is ready

Happy #NationalFarmDay

My neighbor's pen

Little Lakes Poem and Videos

Little Lakes Fly Fishing

Slabs of Kimberlite press ribbon of quartz.

Ultramafic rock lines bridge over Little Lakes.

Volcanic eruptions formed hidden diamonds, as

lovers under covers, puppy streams between

dogs like water get into fissures.

Tie flies before Rock Creek hike.

Mosquito Flats creates feed for trout. 

Every minute of climb a new pool:

Marsh Lake, Heart Lake, Box and Long Lakes

Early Explorer sans poetic imagination rule.

Climb faster than Big Horn sheep - jewels are yours.

Ruby and Gem Lake side trips deliver glacier schools

Swim with Paiutes and tourists but for

heaven's sake don't scare the fish.

Puppy swimming back in Little Lakes

examine for Golden Trout

Caroline Gerardo September 2016 copyrights 

for poem, video and photographs are mine.

NoDAPL Send Message

Can't afford travel to Cannonball North Dakota?
Mail empty water bottles to
Energy Transfer Partners LLC's attorney.
Please remove recycle label, or
send bottles that cannot be recycled for
cash

1735 Market Street Suite LLPhiladelphia, PA 19103 -7583

Energy Transfer Partners

attorney: Debbie Anne Cordero Carlos

Want to drive on Highway 1806

towards the protests? 

Cars are re-routed

to keep the crowds down.

Consider this a message in a bottle.

Call:   Jack Dalrymple

Dear Governor WE SEE And Hold You Responsible

Office of Governor
State of North Dakota
600 East Boulevard Avenue
Bismarck, ND 58505-0100
701.328.2200: phone

Baths 5 Cents

Baths Five Cents

Water off last night

River drys up, you crave more.

No cheese for Lent, dream of cream.

Fortunately the weather is cooler.
Fog in the morning for the rodeo.

Jackie is pregnant, again...
Promise puppy photograph

Hadn't heard from him a month
text arrives plans made and fail

Am I better off not missing  
tub soaks to drain cares away?
je crains la rivière
nettoie votre chanson

Caroline Gerardo  Baths Five Cents Poem Copyright August 27, 2016

San Juan Midwife

Crucifix belonged to Polonia Montanez

San Juan Capistrano Midwife

The blister on her left hand bleeds on the slath. Rods and weavers form the crucifix constructed from willow and native grass. Doña Polonia Guiterrez Montanez (Canedo and Simard) waits for labor of the girl on the cot to hasten. Doña puts the cross in progress on the night table.

"I'm adding oak to the stove outside, I'll be right back."

"Hurry before the next pain comes, or I will die." 

"He watches over us, pray to his mother Mary."

Doña trims sprigs of black and blue cohosh from hemp string bunches of herbs. Flowers and leaves smash in a mortar. Herbs turn to malachite green mush. Then she carries the ball of moss to the fire outside. Add a log, and place the herbs into a iron pot hanging over the fire. Water bubbles over the iron. It spits as the tincture dunks. Aroma of smoking sage fills the air. Doña allows the medicine to steep. She returns to the girl.

Inside the girl's legs prop on the hammock. In the darkness her limbs are the color of roasted chestnut.

"Sit forward, I'll massage your back."

As the girl  leans forward, Doña times stimulation of energy pathways with the return of the spasms. Doña hums. Her hands sand the sharpness of pain.

She sings the responsorial psalm, "Cuenten las Maravillas del Señor."

The girl screams.

"Don't waste energy. Let me see if it's time to push."

The midwife pulls up the girl's gown. She holds the legs wide. The opening is the size of a silver dollar.

"Next contraction we push. Breathe now."

The girl inhales with a whistling sound  through the gap in her front teeth. Doña brings the clean towels closer. She mops the brow of the Indian girl.

"Will the Padre take my baby?" Tears are in her eyes.

"No. We know what the soldier did." 

The wave of contraction returns. Doña props the girl upright to use gravity. 

"Make long good pushes. Don't yell or speak. Bear down."

The girl's face reddens. She grunts.

"A breath. Now push more. Almost."

The girl leans back. She rests. In a minute the urge to push out the pain returns. The girl lifts up. With Doña's coaching, the head comes out from the womb. Doña holds the neck of the baby as the girl relaxes before the next contraction. Cramps return with force to push the shoulders, and a wet child is born. Doña cleans the infant's mouth and eyes. 

The girl, a child herself reaches out  to hold the infant. Doña places the cooing baby on her chest.

"Let me put your son in a clean blanket. Let us pray in thanksgiving for a healthy child."

As the two rest, Doña finishes creating the straw and willow crucifix. She hangs Christ upon the wall above and blesses herself.

(The cross remains in her humble house in Old Towne San Juan.)

Caroline Gerardo

copyright August 20, 2016

Polonia was one of a few midwives at the San Juan Capistrano Mission. It is said she created rain from prayer during the drought. Oh how we could find such a talent today.  She taught the native children at the mission. This woman out lived four husbands (Simard - the last was a Medical Doctor who lived to the age of 103) She practiced healing arts with native herbs. If you have any artifacts or information about her family the Heritage Society, and myself would be proud to record more facts.

Squirrel War

Shared first tomato from the ranch today.
Piggish to slice it into a salad.
Co-workers enjoy the peppery
heavenly joy of organic produce.
I did not work this hard to feed ingrates.

Included here are pretty photographs but the remains of this
post chronicles my war on squirrels who killed my baby chickens. If you're squeamish, or you love fuzzy tails, or
want the second amendment appealed, don't read. This is war on a nasty pest.
Almost eighty days in my new home
Compost piles cook, 17 tons of oak mulch disappears as I wheelbarrow it in place,
hugelkultur shrinks peppers climb on top.
Invested weeks of physical labor.
Don't mind the birds stealing half
the seeds I plant but these are murderous
critters that kill for sport (they don't eat the
chickens just bite them multiple punctures.)

What God created grey ground squirrels?
I'm losing a war with rodents.
I'm not in Aleppo without food or water;
but it's harder than planned.


I purchased these "solutions":
Haveaheart- zero results
what was I going to do with live angry pests?
After reading the instructions about drowning
them I gave the trap to my neighbor (3 miles down
the gravel road). He smiled about the battle.

Squirrelinator -the  male with striped panels
is able to open the door for his friends so they
can enter, enjoy a snack, relax in the shade, and exit.

Rat traps- 3 versions X 9 = no catches but one
empty jar of Skippy peanut butter

Wildlife Control Tube trap-
have reset the trigger nine times, last
time I didn't refill with peanuts as I think I
am feeding the offspring. Zero catches.

Airsoft gun, a Winchester one
I am able to hit a marshmallow on top of a can
at 90 yards BUT the creatures see the gun.
For hours I sat with a camo scarf over my head.
A cardboard wall in front hides my body.
Dark sweet Slemit cherries and peanuts wait in the
meadow.  Dam squirrels see me.

I upgraded my rifle to a better 12 gauge with
bird shot. Neighbor ranchers chuckle when I
hike up the mountain with the gun slung
on my back.
After practicing and becoming expert, I'm ready.
Buggers hide from the sound when I open the locked case.

The squirrels seem to rise at 11:00 AM then saunter home.
Rats with mink tails now work on more nests and get into
my attic.  They are asleep at 5:00 P.M.. It's a leisurely life.
There are plenty of tomatoes, okra, eggplant and squash
to gobble up and bury for later.
This morning I leave the ranch early for the office.
There one the hood of my car. A fat bushy tailed girl
stands upright eating a ripe tomato. I swear she flipped me off.

Don't suggest poison. Everyone says they are too smart, and
it will be the Great Pyrenees dogs that eat vile second hand.

How do I encourage Coopers Hawks and Red Tailed Hawks
to visit and stay?

See vase squirrels broke

Up-cycled Recovery

bird bath upcycled

Recovery

Bird Bath got holes

name of the use gone

Time for chrysalis.

Woodpeckers hunt worms.

Sparrows steal sunflower seeds.

Add sand and compost to

iron antique up-cycled 

succulent planter sprouts.

Get back on your search

stretch those chicken wings

and fly sister.

Ivory Billed Woodpecker is Endangered there are a few out of range here

where I live. 

Phil the water truck gentleman rescued one with a broken wing. 

Phil's a cowboy who looks like he played football.  He found

a vet who coached him online how to care for this wild creature. 

The bird was released yesterday - never looked back.  

We thought the bird would not make it to fly again.

I contacted two endangered species birding groups without response. 

Wish I had taken pictures of Connie (we assumed female) 

Phil had her wrapped in newspaper and a cardboard box in the 

cab of his big yellow water rig truck. 

Bloody and in shock Connie had crazy eyes

I found grubs in my garden. We fed her meal worms, baby chicken feed 

and chicken electrolyte water. 

The bugs wriggled in wet paper towels inside Kerr jars to give him to bring home. 

She didn't eat or drink for two days. 

Recovery was slow but she got stronger.

The day we released Connie someone from this rehabilitation center called me back.

Copyright August 9 2016 Caroline Gerardo

poem and images 

Safe

view driving home of Roblar fire smoke

Safe From the Roblar Fire.

It's south of the ranch. 

Hundreds of Marines

and firemen dig barriers, 

drop retardant and water. 

We are in good hands.

I'm unprepared. 

Need to weed wack larger perimeter. 

Need to practice fire drills,

Need to place valuables in storage, but where is safe?

Another disaster, terrorist attack, plume of smoke. 

Stop travelling?

Stay away from crowds?

Get a gun?

Wear a bullet proof bubble?

Air quality is awful. 

Stink of burning trash,

not the joyful smell of leaves in Fall.

Smog sticks to clothing. 

Reminds of the

Inland Empire when smog was thick

they told children to stay indoors.

No air conditioning in schools.

The smell of kids sweating on linoleum

desks in a crowded classroom is close

to the aroma of air today.

No sun drying laundry.

No digging the rest of the chain link

fortress...

Invasive Thistle

Thistle stays.

Purple faces clay colored hills.

She protects with thistle thorns.

Machete to soil, she returns

with a vast undersea tuber

or spread seeds, she scorns.

This cardoon swims on dust,

as a desert pony trusts

no one eats wild artichokes.

She is

Invasive

pervasive

Poem and image Caroline Gerardo Copyright July  21, 2016

Mother Hen DIY Coop

Chicken Momma

OR Chooks Chookies Kooks and Me

Hatched the baby chickens.

A recent summary of my ranch adventures:

Lost one pullet to pasty butt. Spent three days and nights feeding her drops of vitamin water on the hour. Did you know Siri can learn the names of your baby chickens? This is helpful with an alarm at 3 and 4. Created Kleenex tissue life-safer to keep sick baby from flopping on her back, and the long process of cleaning her bottom. She died.
Next the vicious murder by grey squirrels. I now hunt bushy tails. Two squirrels poked holes in babies and tore one apart.
Horrible deaths, lost sleep and oh my, I’m a Mother Hen.

My house is next to the Cleveland National Forest. Mountain lions, bobcats, coyotes, raccoons and other predators stroll on my driveway. There are two existing chicken coops. One is oversized and the other smaller one I'm adapting into Fort Knox.

The nearest hardware store is a forty minute drive away. First, I purchased chicken wire. After securing three rolls to the coop and play yard, I learn it is not strong enough to withstand hungry predators. I plan to use recycled materials. Chain link fence pieces, left over siding and a couple metal posts were found on Free-cycle. Five rolls of welded steel wire, 4 X 4 lumber posts and twenty varieties of wire I bought at Home Depot.

Country Living is not photo shooting my ranch for the coop. Painted houses with picket fences and screen windows would be torn apart by animals in a moonlit evening. The play house that your daughters grew out of is not safe enough for my hens. A raccoon tears through plastic.

"Raccoons eat plastic zip ties." I told the handy orange Apron at Home Depot.

Rolls of wire are to connect walls and ceiling for the play pen. I need to stitch the wire together and have no gaps.
"This ook wire with the nice package cutter is perfect." Orange apron tells me.
This product stinks. The cutter doesn’t trim the wire. The spool hogs the ends. Then when you just need a little a long center piece sticks out of the cardboard. As you ease the piece out to cut the rope becomes tangled in under layers. Send "Ook "frustration packaging to your enemies. Let their hands be torn bloody while they pull for the next piece. I never return purchases. Have you waited in line to face the humiliation of being asked why something doesn't work? Ook sucks, see the holes in my hands.

Another trip to Home Depot.

“Do you have metal zip ties?”

Strange facial expression from Orange vest guy.

“Perhaps in the electrical department?” he answers.

“I know metal conducts electricity. I am searching for cable ties that come in packs of 100 or more…”

“We don’t have anything like that, what are you using them for?” Frowny face from Orange vest.

I explain about the coop. He gives me the crazy lady bored face.

"J clips, hog rings, loxit rings and matching pliers?" I say as if speaking a foreign language.
Okay Orange County isn't the farming capitol of California anymore... Time for a real drive.

I make a third trip over the hill to real farming hardware stores.  Grangetto's sales person complements my cowgirl boots. They have barn owl boxes (next project) rainwater retention and grey water systems. I'm smiling. Next stops Tractor Supply and Kahoots.  


When I am finished I will post images of the darling Spanish Style Chicken High Security Vault and the shoot that opens into a play yard.

Quran #prayersfornice

5:32 Quran

whoever kills a soul unless for a soul or for corruption [done] in the land - it is as if he had slain mankind entirely. And whoever saves one - it is as if he had saved mankind entirely.And our messengers had certainly come to them with clear proofs. Then indeed many of them, [even] after that, throughout the land, were transgressors.

مِنْ أَجْلِ ذَٰلِكَ كَتَبْنَا عَلَىٰ بَنِي إِسْرَائِيلَ أَنَّهُ مَن قَتَلَ نَفْسًا بِغَيْرِ نَفْسٍ أَوْ فَسَادٍ فِي الْأَرْضِ فَكَأَنَّمَا قَتَلَ النَّاسَ جَمِيعًا وَمَنْ أَحْيَاهَا فَكَأَنَّمَا أَحْيَا النَّاسَ جَمِيعًا ۚ وَلَقَدْ جَاءَتْهُمْ رُسُلُنَا بِالْبَيِّنَاتِ ثُمَّ إِنَّ كَثِيرًا مِّنْهُم بَعْدَ ذَٰلِكَ فِي الْأَرْضِ لَمُسْرِفُونَ

#prayersfornice

celui qui tue une âme à moins d'une âme ou de la corruption [ fait ] dans le pays -

il est comme s'il avait tué tous les hommes .

Et celui qui sauve un - il est comme s'il avait sauvé l'humanité entièrement .

Et nos messagers avaient certainement venir à eux avec des preuves évidentes .

Alors, en effet beaucoup d'entre eux , [ même ] après que , dans tout le pays ,

étaient transgresseurs .

François Hollande 
please
look at the Great

Charlemagne 
"By the Sword and the Cross"

War on Squirrels

War

Off rid journey takes a turn.
Roads have narrow parts. Vehicles coming down hill
backs up to allow the struggling a way.
Start with pastoral ideas of turning weed acres into garden.
In plans I drew the compost and hugelkultur beds on the lower acre,
a bit removed from the main house.

After a month of machete, then dig and
pull the heat of summer takes most of the invasive, alien and
not native weeds to dust. They will, like Schwarzenegger
in the Terminator,"be back..." in the spring.

I have two chicken coops. One I remade it into Fort Knox.
I also prepared a "play yard." for the baby chicks. The play pen is an
old dog run with four foot high chain link. This I fortified with chicken
wire and galvanized one inch wire mesh from sides and top. I was thinking
that the only daytime predators were hawks, owls and perhaps the eight
Great Pyrenees who guard the ranch below (they enjoy a wander romp,
coming to my house for treats and to chew up hoses. Don't get me wrong,
Great Pyrenees are bred as guardians but these pups might step on the
pullets.
After nursing babies in warming lights and washing bottoms. I'm mother hen.
I hadn't planned on grey squirrels. I trapped mice and rats but squirrels were not
in the plans. Bunnies- yes - but not squirrels, until yesterday.
Ground squirrels (grey ones)  kill chickens for territory or sport.
This I read after the murder of three month old chicks.
Murderous rodents.

War on squirrels begins.
Sound the fireworks. Load my 22, and the sling shot.
No pass on this road up.
For those who want to comment.
Don't say you feed squirrels peanuts.
Posted below images of other projects
to distract you from furry tails.
succulent coffee table below
and using old copper sheeting as
succulent planters.
The copper will turn verdigris soon.
In discussion with my sister Nori yesterday I
spoke about my home made craft projects.
I'm always making things to give away as presents
Last Christmas maybe you received a herb candle in
a wine bottle or a herb wreath? Pretty things take
twenty some hours to make. Perhaps this year it
will be sunflower seed wreaths or sun dried tomatoes?
See how sweet my tone turned I didn't say a
fur trimmed sweater.

Caroline Gerardo Copyright July 10, 2016 story poetry images are not released 

for any use

Ghost

Eight miles on Ortega Highway. Find the red gate. A skull and cross bones sign on recycled cardboard posts before the electronic eye.  The metal is smashed on the right.  Look for the transponder hidden, a geo code.
Drive 18 minutes past poison oak. Don't pass neighbors in pick ups with gun racks. Wave at vehicles driving down stream.
The house is haunted. Its not the first time I cohabited with ghosts.
A cabin with river rock facade. Built in the turn of the century with modern plumbing, solar panels, generator and no cell service. No booster corrects the lack of phone availability.
It's summer. Evening breezes push through the black Pines in the front. Tonight it's crisp but no wind. A  friend at work has an earthquake predictor application on his desktop. Every day he shouts out that if the sunset is red, the San Andreas Fault takes revenge.I forgot to take note of the sky at 7:42 P.M.
Dinner made itself in two crock pots. One has chicken with pineapple and soy sauce. Hawaiian rice waits for a stir. Remaining duties: steam broccoli and combine the salad items in the glass containers. Before setting the table, I sit to check a few edits on the work in progress. Carson's laptop is open in the empty seat next to mine.
The iron chandelier overhead begins to sway. It rocks. There's a sound of beep ping of a Casablanca fan or iphone ring tone. Is it the laptop? No it's an earthquake.  One is is due.
"Get in a doorway the big one!"
Flashes where cities burn down and thousands injured without sanitation run through my mind. Did I store enough water, bullets, bandages, dry food, matches and more bullets? My children (college students) follow orders. They join me under the beamed doorway. We watch as the ancient chandelier crashes on the farm house table where I was seated and destroys my son's new laptop.
"House is solid. No shaking - only see it move!" My son points to the million shards of glass and metal on top of his treasured MAC. He puts his arm around his sister's shoulder to relax her fears. At this second I'm proud he isn't concerned about the value of things but the love between us. Then his facial expression changes examining his fish tank with the one remaining fighting fish.
"If it was an earthquake everything would be moving. The water is still."
"Without phone service it's hard to check with if there will be aftershocks," daughter worries.
"It's a fault in the chandelier," he answers.
"Ghosts." she says.
I frown. Rather than skeptical, accept poltergeist theory, "We're kind people. You can stay, we won't harm you," I say with emphasis.
"Mom, don't be crazy."
"Can't hurt." I shrug,  "I'm not prejudice against ghosts."
My kids laugh. Daughter runs her fingers through her bangs, shaking off fears.
The electrical cords that connect with the wires above have wires rusted and frayed. Crystal bells that held the energy efficient bulbs are in pieces, crumbled as plastic wrap.  Carson's new Apple laptop is in worse shape. With the lid opened and light on with thousands of  pieces of the machine scatter. Did the lithium battery  explode?
Our team hugs. We are safe. Another expensive fix ahead, but we survive.