Brant Came Home! - and Made it a Holiday | Eastern NC 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.

    These are the kind of days that made October famous. From the early hours til dusk, it has just been lovely. Typically, October is a flashy month, by all accounts. Not yet has it reached its' peak here, but today my faith in October was restored. Last night, was especially cool-so much that I put the windows down. . .and the fan was put back in the closet. I kept a substantial sweater on all day, though remember , I have spent my life in the south-and the sixties are chilly, to me.

    The arrival of the first frost remains a mystery, but we are nearer to it than we were just a short while ago. When the frost comes, it fades the rose and puts a halt on tender sprouts. Frost tames the wild southern vines, which does not make me sorry. Frost also gives the countryside a sparkle-and makes me want to build a fire in the garden. When the time comes to burn a small fire, I will call Rae, as she loves a fire so. While, I am waiting for frost, I will gather roses.

    As autumn chills the territory around the rabbit patch, my thoughts turn to home and hearth. The old farmhouse is hardly a glamorous dwelling, but its' charm "covers a multitude of sins". . . and especially in October. Books and china teacups grace the morning table. Soft blankets are draped on chairs and sofas-and lamps are turned on before supper. Sauces simmer, that will smother foods like slow roasted chicken. Pots of dried beans and hearty chowders are staples at the rabbit patch, starting in October. I know of few things better, than coming in from the cold, to a warm kitchen that smells like supper.

    The sky reflects the season, along with the field and woodland. Stars are sparsely scattered, now and the constellations make their presence known. They are unhindered by the millions of stars, the sky hosts in the summer. Before sunrise, now, Venus is directly below the crescent moon. It is as bright as I have ever seen it and truly, even out stages the moon.

    Brant is Home!

    Brant came home today! This made Thursday, a holiday for me. He and Sydney are on the way to a wedding in Virginia. Mama and Daddys' house is almost "on the way" and so we all met up at my parents for an evening meal. Afterwards, Christian played the piano, Sydney worked on a portrait of Lyla, she is drawing and I wrote a bit in the diary. We sat in the living room while we we worked on our "art" and hardly spoke, but later agreed we had loved those moments. Sidney and I eventually sang along with Christian as he played . Kyle and Christian left after the singing, but I spent the night, again, where I grew up. . .and I was late for work, the next morning.

    First, I woke up late. The room I slept in did not allow the light of morning to stream through the window, heralding the new day. The house was silent as no one was going anywhere-and there wasn't a cat or dog, that needed to go out. All seemed fine, til I looked at a clock. . .full of judgement, I add. I could not find my hairbrush nor my keys. I just quit rushing. Late is late, and so what did it matter if it were ten minutes or twenty? Besides, the time with my family would not allow me any regrets. I was with my children, and I saw my parents happy . . . I must remember, from here on out, that October is a lovely time for a "holiday ". The weather is lovely and the landscape seems set to celebrate, on any given day.

    Dear Diary, I am glad for bright days and dark, cool evenings when stars are sparsely scattered. I am glad for times when loved ones gather. . . to share a meal-and then to sing. I am especially glad that Brant came home.