Snow on the Rabbit Patch-the Conclusion | 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.

    I was up this morning, when the territory was dark and silent. I especially wanted to see the sunrise on the snow, again. At long last, the temperatures are returning to a normal range, and the bulk of the snow, is expected to melt today. I wanted to watch the grand finale of a lovely duet . . .snow and light. It was a soft, but spectacular moment when at last the sun rose over the wooded horizon. It seemed a holy communion of fire and ice, and I did not take it lightly.

    Late yesterday, water began to run in the old farmhouse. At least two pipes will need replacing, at last count. Still, how wonderful to have water again. I can wash clothes and dishes, and by tomorrow, the roads should be safe for everything to re- open. Thankfully, I have not suffered the "cabin fever" that many do. This may confirm my suspicion, that I am a "home body". I have been perfectly content to read and write. Cash and Christopher were good company, though I was glad to see Kyle come in last night, and Christian this morning. Tonight, I hope to cook a special supper commemorating their "homecoming". . . and water.

    In the early afternoon hours, the snow began melting and large patches of the earth appeared here and there. The air felt so warm and the sunshine was so bright, that it reminded me of April. I made a last bowl of snow cream, just because I could and may not be able to again for a long while. I made it in my winter china bowl and felt quite fancy.

    I have spent a good deal of the last four days, under a soft blanket in very comfortable "house clothes"-today I began to "mend my ways" and set out to restore order in the farmhouse. There is a fair amount of laundry and the floors are tracked with all sorts of tiny puddles and trash from bringing in a half cord of wood, during the storm. I placed the geraniums back in the laundry room. They have been complaining of the frigid air, like everybody else.

    By, the time Kyle came in the back door, a one dish supper, was ready. Washing dishes, in a sink that leaks, is not for the faint of heart. It is a calculated affair which involves bins of clean and soapy water, that must be emptied . . . and a bucket under the sink, just in case.

    Wednesday, some time in January

    I just thought, it was going to snow. The amount forecasted made me think, we would be out of school a day or so. I was not prepared for the record breaking lows that would last for days, bursting pipes and leaving some segments of the population, without power. Last night, school was cancelled again. At some point, I lost track of the date, the days of the week and the presence of clocks. One day varies little from the day before and the one to follow. If this is what retirement is like, then I am willing! I have read til my heart is content. I have gotten answers to many nagging questions on all sorts of topics , that range from salt lamps to Swiss education practices. I have talked to Mama several times every day-and talked to some of my dear old friends, for as long as I pleased. . .beautiful opportunities, as rare as the snow.

    Tomorrow, we go back to our familiar routines, for the snow is melting, and that changes everything. Children will tell stories about forts and sledding. They will all have had snow cream. We all have new stories. I will remember being as cold as I have ever been. I will remember baking cookies , like "Mama Hodges" made. I will not forget the dream that warned me to check the pump house. I will remember the way of light on snow. . .and how Mama does not like snow, at all- even in moonlight.