Homecoming Sunday | 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.

    Daybreak was especially beautiful this morning . . I know because I was there, at the "early service" on the rabbit patch. The sky was a deep apricot color and seemed to light the fields. I am always hopeful at sunrise.

    Against all the odds, according to the weatherman, it rained yesterday. I was mowing, when it did. I knew the sky looked like rain when I stepped out of the back door. I thought I smelled it, but the weatherman surely knew what he was talking about, especially with all of that fancy technology-so I started mowing. The orchard was in an awful state and it does take a good part of the day to mow the territory. I have been gone the past two weekends and I needed to do three days work, in two . . so when it started sprinkling, I kept on mowing. The drops got bigger, but certainly it would pass. I looked up and across the field I saw a white wall of rain coming my way. In the country, you can see rain coming. I was drenched by the time I put the mower up and was disappointed that the yard was only half done.

    I did see the french mulberry and the butterfly bush, that now, gives good shade-blooming all along the young woods. I also found a young rose of Sharon had planted itself along the picket fence. I made a mental note to pot it for whenever I move, along with many other flowers. Last but not least, there is still the "autumn joy" to brag about. It is a rich shade of warm burgundy, now. I love the way the color of the blooms change as the season progresses.

    I came in and changed clothes and then dried my loyal dog off. Cash had stayed right with me in that downpour, though he does not like to get wet. I started washing linens and regretted they couldn't line dry. I washed blankets too and one load of clothes. I washed all afternoon. The bedspreads take so very long to dry that Christian and I had a frozen pizza for supper. We couldn't even eat it at the kitchen table as the whole thing was covered in folded laundry.

    After the lovely dawn today, I made the pastry to add to the chicken and stock . It is "Homecoming" at the church I attended as a child. I remembered watching my grandmama making pastry, more than forty years ago. She rolled the dough as thin as paper and cut it in neat little triangles. I am always surprised how some of the most ordinary things get etched in our hearts. I do know for sure-at least in my case, that I remember events more than any thing , that was bought-unless you count ponies.

    It does not look like rain, so when I get home, I have "my work cut out for me".

    Homecoming

    I came home from church full in every way. Tables were laden with everything you can imagine. I saw a potato dish, brown and buttery. I placed a heap of it beside my chicken and barbecue-only to find out later it was a pineapple dish! That was a wonderful mistake. I was able to track down the cook, and got the recipe. It is very similar to a bread pudding and I plan to try it shortly.

    I did get to see the twins, Martha and Marsha. We ate together along with my parents, sister and niece. I have a lot of good memories with the twins. They are hard workers and will tackle any sort of job-from installing ceiling fans to tearing down small barns. . . and they are "cute as a button" still. (Buttons used to be cute.) I saw Beth who gave me the chocolate cinnamon cake recipe, when we were young mothers. I felt like I had seen her yesterday and could have told her a secret, if I had any. And Brenda. . . Brenda is dear to me. She is just a few years older than me, and gave me very good advice, when I was so very inexperience at motherhood. When Brant, my oldest son was an only child, we would take bike rides together down winding country roads. I still remember them and consider them precious memories. I had a nice visit with Enid too, whom I have always admired, such a kind spirit. Love is a mighty and powerful force, I am reminded when I see those from seasons long ago. Authentic friendship is not "corrupted by moth nor rust" nor does it tarnish though years have passed.

    I came home fully determined to finish the mowing-and there was still some housekeeping left to do. Thankfully, Christian was home-and in the mood to work. He decided to work outside and so I felt hopeful that the rabbit patch would be in order , before work on Monday. Of course, I decided to move furniture and discard a very heavy old daybed, that had seen better days. This required extra scrubbing and cleaning, but once done, Christian and I agreed, it was a good decision. Whenever, I do move to a quaint cottage somewhere, there will be less to move than before. I am already practicing minimal habits in possessions and spending, and it feels very liberating, oddly. I am sure Jo Dee would laugh at this, as she has seen me price mustard! I have never been a "big spender".

    By the time of twilight, the rabbit patch was in fairly good order. A lot can happen in two days. Sometimes the contents of a few days are as simple as clean linens and french mulberry. Sometimes it is running with your dog, in the rain-and sometimes, you stand in the shadow of those you love and remember the gifts they brought to your life. . "in good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over".