Say "Rabbit" | 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.

    With yesterday, being February first, I said "rabbit" a lot. A friend introduced me to this custom many years ago. I was completely unaware of it being "good luck" and may have missed out on all sorts of fortune, because of it. Now, I make it a priority on February first to say "rabbit"-of course I also make wishes on stars and dandelions. The fact is, I make a wish now, on anything beautiful-even pretty rocks and redbirds. You must know I wished on the "blue moon".

    Yesterday, felt like a genuine spring day. It seems this winter, days are very cold or very mild. I do not wish the winter away, as some do. Winter in the country, is much more leisure, than when things like southern vines are growing . . still yesterday was especially beautiful and did my heart good, Spring is so lovely.

    Last night, I packed for a weekend in Elizabeth City. I also cooked cooked two dishes to leave for Kyle and Christian. They are young men now, and do not need to be coddled with such antics, but I can not bear thinking about them eating just eggs for several days. My older boys and Jenny are good cooks, and I suppose there is hope for the younger ones too . . when I stop cooking for them. I can not bring myself to take such measures now, though.

    I awakened this morning to the sound of rain. The spectacular blue moon, was no where in sight. It is pitch dark, as I write this, so hence, the early service has not yet commenced. I may end up driving to work, in the midst of it. I will teach violin and then leave for the home of my beloved daughter and grandchild.

    After Violin Class

    The rain had stopped falling, and the day became clear, with a cold wind blowing. As soon, as the students finished practicing the "Tennessee Waltz", I headed north. It was a beautiful drive and I made good time. I came in the back door,and smelled supper cooking. Jenny was ahead of the game. Lyla did not run to greet me and the only sign of Jenny, was the supper, that smelled wonderful. I found Jenny, upstairs, asleep, with Lyla in her arms. I do not not know of too many sights more beautiful than a mother sleeping with her child. They both seemed so comfortable and were probably dreaming, I thought-and so for this reason, I crept down the stairs, and was as "quiet as a church mouse". I thought it was a lovely time to read . . and it was, for all of twenty minutes -then I too took a nap , as the the morning service, seemed so very long ago. Will came home to a quiet house.

    We were all awake by the latest part of the day. I had to have coffee, as I always do, when I wake. I tend to wake so slowly, and from naps, I can be grumpy. Lyla and I had a sweet reunion, while Jenny put supper on the table. We were all so hungry after napping. The meatballs were cooked to perfection and piled on pasta, smothered in a delicate sauce. It was a wonderful dinner and satisfying, on a cold winter night.

    Afterwards, Will and Jenny watched a favorite show, and Lyla and I played with a small doll house. The characters that live in the house, are based on a British childrens' program, and so Lyla speaks with an English accent, as she plays. Last night, all of the dolls needed a "bahth".

    I promised Lyla "honey cakes" for breakfast and told her to try to remember her dreams, at bedtime. She went upstairs, to find her bunny, she calls Peter, and soon after, was again "fast asleep".

    Saturday Morning, very early

    Once again, I was awake, long before daybreak. Outside the kitchen door, the world was cold and still. The "blue moon", though waning, was bright and ribbons of golden light seemed to cascade over the sleepy village, like a divine baptism, of sorts.

    By the time, the moon had faded to silver, the birds were busy collecting their first course of the day. A tiny wren had flown into the back porch, which is screened. He was frantic and in such distress, and the solution to his problem, was just an "arms' length" away. I understood his dilemma well. I came in, as it would soon be time to hear what Lyla had dreamed, while I cooked "honey cakes", anyway.