Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs 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.
It is after Sunday dinner now, and I have noticed a new habit of mine. I like to write in the hours, after the gathering around the table. It may be that, I want a record of sorts, or it could be that I especially love to write when I am so content-and both may be true. I especially like to write in the morning, but a Sunday afternoon seems to work as well.
Of course, I took full advantage of having that fancy china with redbirds and ribbons, though it was seventy degrees outside. At least it is still February. I fixed Jo Dees' chicken and made believers out of mama and daddy, as to its' divine nature. They agreed it was worth all of my bragging. We had collards, potatoes and cornbread too. For dessert. I fixed a red velvet cake, being it was close to Valentine's Day. It wasn't nearly as red as I had hoped, but it was good. I am not fond of using food coloring, unless I am making "sea glass" out of mason jars. I thought that cherry juice would be a nice flavor addition and make the cake red as well. I should have used a lot more, and not been so stingy with it. We ate the cake anyway , though it was maroon in color. Daddy asked why it needed to be red anyway-and he was right.
Tres and Kelsey are in Rome, on vacation. They are to return this week. Tres loves to travel and has done a bit, to be so young. When he was a little boy, I called him my "wonder boy" because he was always wondering about things. He was curious and needed answers to how things worked. He grew up to have a career in research. I knew all along, he was suited for such work. I have an idea, that if we watch children closely when they are very little-and free in their thoughts, we can predict closely, a good career path for them. My own children have proven this true, at least. I told Kyle, when he was around five, that he should be a landscaper-and he is. He remembers this and we laugh about it, now. Brant and Christian are artists. They must create- and Jenny was destined to be a mother by the time she was three! They all chose play that foretold their futures, and I "kept these things, and pondered them in my heart" as mothers have been known do.
I saw the beautiful "snow moon", this week. It was almost amber . It was especially pretty, when it hung low in the sky. The field turned shades of gold, in its' light. Of course, I made a wish on that beautiful "Snow Moon", for good measure.
The wind, is brisk today. The pine trees do not whisper in such conditions, but produce a roar, instead-still, the sound is lulling. The only other sound is the occasional rattle of dry leaves, being swept from the far corners of the rabbit patch.
I am grateful for the peace and quiet, after Sunday Dinner, today. I am grateful I saw the snow moon. I am glad it is almost time for Tres to come home-that it is almost Mamas' birthday- and that we all gathered again, for a good meal with an almost red velvet cake. Sunday is a lovely time.