Rabbit Patch Glory | Eastern North Carolina Now

    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.

    By seven am, I was gathering more branches on the rabbit patch territory. I have two more piles to gather and burn, and then will be caught up-for at least a week. There is no rest for the weary on a rabbit patch. I did see that the cape jasmine is in full bloom, along with the lilies.

    Cash, my very loyal boxer, went with me. The morning was especially cool. I surveyed the property and felt grateful for all the work done this week end. Finally, at long last, order has been restored on the rabbit patch. Things are in their proper places and mostly the territory looks tidy. This is no small feat. Old trees are dear to my heart, but they do make a mess. Still, I will not complain with a tree. The barns, I will complain with.

    There are five barns in the back yard-several are really big open shelters. I like them all to be orderly as you can see their content. The rabbit patch requires a lot of tools, besides wheel barrows and mowers etc. There are also water hoses and cages for tomato plants. There are buckets and bushel baskets-what a commotion it all causes. We are all in the habit of working til we are very tired and so a rake is liable to end up where a bucket ought to be. I have read, and believe, that "love covers a multitude of sins." . . the same can be said for a barn door.

    This morning, somehow , when there is a bit of "rabbit patch glory", I am not sorry in the least, for the work. Christian and I worked together for hours. In the evening, we stood basking in our accomplishments. We were both tired and dirty. We both agreed that we hoped one day soon, we would find that cottage, with a sidewalk in front of it. We both went to bed early . I couldn't tell you what I dreamed and I am quite sure I was asleep before everyone got blessed.

    I did get a nice surprise, last night. Jenny called and is bringing Lyla for a visit. Jenny has a baby shower to attend and so I will tend to Lyla. We are meeting at my parents' house, so we will have a nice visit- and probably for best part of the afternoon. Baby showers are not what they used to be, after all.

    It used to be that showers were for women and little girls, mostly. There would be a pretty table with glass dishes, which were collected by older women and lent out to the hostesses. Of course, I have a collection myself,. (When people started using paper products, the thick cut glass lost its' appeal and were "a dime a dozen". ) The food was always the same. There were little decorated cake squares, nuts, lady fingers, sandwiches made with cucumber and others made with pimento cheese. Chicken salad was served in cute little pastry cups.- and the best and always home made mints in pastel colors. There was a corsage for the expecting mother and punch was served. It was an almost formal affair. Some one wrote an account of the gifts, because thank you notes were a must! They were all the same. Gifts were chosen by those attending. There were no lists of desired items. sent with the invitation, telling you where to buy them. Most often, we didn't know the gender, so there were bibs,sleepers and receiving blankets in mostly green and yellow. Someone always crocheted an afghan, to give. Wedding showers were conducted in the same fashion. What sweet occasions, showers were. I suppose my memories truly tell my age . . .and I do not consider it a foolish endeavor, to give an account of an old tradition. One thing remains, as it always was-there is a young mother, full of hopes and dreams, at everyone of them-or a joyful bride, fairly glowing.

    Sunday Afternoon

    Things did not go as planned in the afternoon. Lyla was not well and so Jenny did not attend the shower- so. I headed for the woods. I do not like to work in the woods, this time of year. As a child, the woods were forbidden once it got warm outside. Threats about redbugs, poison ivy, ticks, snakes and ground bees were cited over and over-and I know now, it was all true. Forts and secret places were abandoned in the spring and not to be revisited until after a few "hard" frosts-still, if I didn't tend to those vines, the battle would very soon be lost -and so I devised a plan. I used the mower to create a ruckus and cut the vines sitting while the motor roared. Of course, I came out battered and scratched, but the victory was mine, on this day.

    I finally declared a truce with the rabbit patch after that ordeal. Tomorrow, I must enter civilization again, after all.

    Dear Diary, The days have not been full of fires and thorns only , but lovely things too . The Cape Jasmine blooms and so do the lilies. I remembered something sweet from long ago and felt glad-I made a wish on the star closest to the moon and all things considered, it might just come true.