A Pumpkin, Some Flowers and a Light in the Mist | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant mémoires of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    In small ways, autumn is making its' presence known. Mornings are cool and dimly lit. Nightfall comes earlier, ending days of fog and mist. Rain has been a constant threat and shows up often. A pumpkin now sits where the irises bloomed and chrysanthemums grace the old porch. A soft, little light shines through the mist like a cheerful greeting and it does my heart good to see it .

    A stillness has settled on the rabbit patch the last few days. The trees seem so solemn when there is not even the slightest breeze. The morning fog has no hurry about it, but hangs about in the air like a spell . Mist is a quiet affair and lends an air of enchantment to bare fields and old barns. . . and pumpkins.

    In September, I bring ageratum flowers in the old farmhouse. They are small periwinkle colors and pair well with the bright yellow swamp flowers. I take inventory of all the blankets and quilts too. I take note of the woodpile-this year it is lacking and I must attend to that. The garden is officially over in September-and the roses have slowed down too.

    Years ago, I was in an antique store and spotted some china with a dainty fall pattern. I have a weakness for such things and so upon further inspection, I saw it was a partial set and moved along. Weeks later, I was in the same store and once again admired them. The owner is a friend of mine and she said I ought to get them as I liked them-and at a great price. I told her it was a partial set and I couldn't use it. She laughed and told me it was a dessert set. I left without them anyway. At some point, I was reading Better Homes & Gardens, and there was an article on dessert sets, popular in the fifties. Apparently, when a woman got a notion to make a cake, she would call her friends and serve it on pretty little china plates with coffee in pretty little china cups in those days.

    I thought about this custom and knew I was meant for it. I imagined how many problems were solved at these gatherings. I bet advice was traded on everything from sewing to gardening-from cooking to soothing a fussy baby. Modern times hardly allow such occasions without a lot of commotion to arrange it. I got the set anyway and am happy to say I use it-in the autumn. Twice, on a whim, it worked out, that I just decided to make a cake and called some friends, who were glad I did. It is a lovely setting and complete after all.

    September, with its' rain and fog is all but over, yet it does not leave me empty handed, but instead with lasting parting gifts. In September, my thoughts turn to home and hearth. In the kitchen, the lowly ageratum that grows on ditch banks and all over the rabbit patch too, becomes a centerpiece. . . and the porch has flowers, a pumpkin and a little light that shines through the mist. September is a lovely time at the rabbit patch-and my heart is grateful for it.