Black and White Lining Up

Black and white baby calves with their Mom-mas.
Three day weekend for projects.
Cross off the accomplishments on your list.

Weeded hillside and planted five pounds of sunflowers.
Italian White, Lemon Queen and Red Sun reach up to
touch the Wolf Moon the other night.
Rain helped in the work, making the soil let go tap root filagree,
bristly mallow and bermuda buttercups. My hands ache. I like the
cheerful yellow buttercups but they are toxic to livestock. This
reminds me of outlet covers, baby proof dishwasher and cutting grapes
in halves. Caring is habit, makes me happy.

One of the Polish chickens, Red McRib recovered from "self poisoning."
She persists in eating succulents until drunk. I removed the plants; but,
she obsess on other dangers. Naughty teenager.
Update: tried a tiny pony tail on her to test if lack of eyesight is the
source of her crazy behavior.
Here's a video of her behavior:

Last weekend her party endeavors left
her shaking and blurred vision. Red black and gold
feathers scattering everywhere in a dervish.
She spent the week in the screened porch.
Isolation is hard on chickens.
I set up a soft box inside a huge plastic bin, and forced her to drink water and eat every two hours. Red's back with the crew, but not back to normal.
More skiddish and crazy yelling than before, sigh.

Below is a Kiger Mustang stallion. He visited a neighbor and is on his way
to Utah. These majestic horses are amazing.  He nods his head, yes.

I asked Dave Malone to edit the Climate Change novel, I'm still playing
with titles. Okay leave me a comment: Vote - 1. Climate Change
2. The Great Drought 3. you make it up the story is about a woman
prepper in the future when water is drastically scarce.

Began the next long form novel, and booked a studio for
the Audio book. The year ahead I have my plans written down. News
media has distracted us all. I'm reading everything, mis-trusting main
stream media- frankly all print propaganda. Stay positive. Keep your
eyes open. Be extra kind to others. Big hugs to you all.

Intercontinental Hotel Friday night I will be sipping a Rob Roy
meet me there




Copyright 1/15/2017 Caroline Gerardo

Sunflowers

Google enhanced the above photograph. 

Computer algorithms decide an image is artistic and fixes it? 

Auto Awesome was a branding name now disappeared. 

Google Photos and cloud storage for images is wonderful.

Will my sunflowers below become Van Gogh trembling pics?

Happy Day to you 

Caroline Gerardo copyright ©  2/26/2016

Missing

MISSING

A familiar mug.

Not a tea cup. 

A sturdy arm.

Old boyfriend

threw it away.

Kids blamed

missing toys

on Tidy Bob.

"Tossed shit

on trash day"

Sneak stuff

out when the 

truck comes.

Miss that mug.

Our Halloween

decorations sit

in a landfill.

Breaking down

compost into

sunflowers in 

a new vase. 

sunflowers

graveyard hydrangeas

bridge to past

burned motor home

Poem and images
 copyright 2016
Caroline Gerardo

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
molds.
(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.

Sunflowers In My Garden

 

Valentine Sunshine

I sent you glorious sunflowers, wider than Van Gogh's breath.
Your soul flys gloating on wings of a dandelion seed umbrella.
Your torso shades the world bringing the color of Greek sunlight.
You're young without joints, debt to the IRS, or worry in the sternum.

Dance as a prickleypear, lemon thorn, and mace thistle protect your garden.
Sing from inside the hands of the hawthorne and let me hear you.
God, sing louder, please.
Where is your amplifier for fun?
We need a little Hallmark, Danny Hall,
corny and full of doe eyed characters, please.


Our homes are happy, we have been fed love and it is all good.

I'm reading another fortune made of heavely sugar.
Next one says to lay off necco candies or fear the drop.

Thanksgiving Mourning Wing Sounds Poem

It is Thanksgiving in Canada,

there is an opposite season in the world.

October sunflowers return on the hillside in random rows.

Seedlings from my colossal variegated propped up blooms.

A cherry tomato gone wild is more elegant than Monsanto’s.

I was honest last Thanksgiving,
but he holds his own version story.

How long will the healing process take?

How should I know?

My life has an egg timer, there are three mouths to feed.

After years of caring, the heart does not want

 to let loose the guide rope so easy.

A hot air balloon unattached to the basket

mid-air mid-life wanting to stay connected.

Missing the sound of the girlies wings.

Pruning of my hybrid teas does not change

ramblings of climbers & stray hummingbirds.
I am happy in my soul.

I stopped filling the feeders,

 I gave up the trail with old haunts,

until my fingers bleed at the cuticles,

but still that sprout gets into my dreams.