These Days are Beautiful | 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.

    I did not miss the early service this morning. I was picking peaches in a light morning rain, when day came to the rabbitpatch. It is Sunday, after all and it would not be right if I did not have a peach cobbler for dessert. I did get about a half dozen of the white peaches to mix in with the yellow. I do not know much, but I do know that picking fruit and vegetables -and flowers has got to be good for you. What a far cry this work is from the high stress of most kinds of employment. Peach trees do not not quarrel with you or demand more . . .or else. It is hard to think of anything, but the task at hand, during the moments you are collecting bounty from nature. It is such a lovely thing to gather fruit and flowers, in the morning. As it turns out, I am not an expert at anything, but I do know that, while I was picking the peaches, all was well in my world.

    I decided on lasagna for our main course. July remains surprisingly, cool enough to have such a dish. I had the sauce simmering not long after I came back with the peaches. Peeling fruit is not the same as picking it is, for me. Maybe because there is no chance a robin will fly by, or that a butterfly will land on the counter, but for some reason I sort out all kinds of things as I am peeling anything. I practically knew how to raise my children because I peeled potatoes, regularly.

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    The rabbit patch kitchen was an especially happy place on this Sunday. Mama and Daddy came. . .and so did Jenny and Lyla. Kyle was home this Sunday too. Lyla was content to stay at the table as she has yet to warm up to Cash, my boxer. Cash is completely unaware of this predicament. Lyla sang songs for us and then played with ribbons, while we talked.

    By the time everyone left, the familiar humidity of every July, I have ever known, settled over the territory. When I gathered a bouquet, this morning, I noticed the wicked vines had taken full advantage of my two week holiday. In light of the humidity, I opted to do battle with the vines . . .tomorrow.

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    By late afternoon, thunder rumbled a warning in the distance. I had to turn a lamp on by five o'clock. Not long after , it started to rain. The yard is a mess, though the rabbitpatch is "on high ground" Hardly ever does water stand in this yard. On the few occasions, it has, a hard rain had fallen - and quickly. We have had hot dry summers here. About five years ago, not a drop fell, the whole summer. It was hard to grow tomatoes, that year.

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    If I had an umbrella, I would keep it handy . . for it was raining again at the early service this Monday. . . and rain is in the forecast for tomorrow as well. July is masquerading as if it were May! Under such conditions, I must do housekeeping . . .again. I am down to three small junk drawers to clean out. . .and I have been working steadily on the freezer . . just in case the sell of the rabbit does come to fruition. The yard remains in an awful and forlorn shape. It looks as sad as it does in February. It seems I may have to resort to donning a raincoat to change that .

    I pulled the first drawer out, which is really my own collection of things that just do not seem to belong anywhere. There are also the things I happened to be holding when a pot was boiling over. The most of the trinkets were pens and pencils, spare reading glasses, a few ribbons and notepads. There was a key that goes to one of the doors, to be figured out, later. I found a drivers' license, now twenty years old. . . and then I found the seeds.

    They were packaged in little envelopes, with hand written explanations of their contents. There were two varieties of holly hocks and delphiniums too . The friend that gave these to me died suddenly last summer, in her sleep. There were no warnings of any health concerns. She just died and was about my age. We had been friends over a decade. In the time I knew her, she had given me gifts on a regular basis. The gifts were seeds and cuttings often. Sometimes I got a book- I have a nice collection to prove it, but most often she gave me verses, quotes and poetry written on index cards. Many times, the words fit my needs in an uncanny fashion. I was always shocked at how the words rang true at the precise moment.

    She was one of the first that implored me to write. She would not let it alone. When at last I took the leap - and I was so very fearful - she declared the earth was applauding.

    Her wisdom was a quiet one, that ran deep. This was undeniable, when you heard her speak, yet she spoke it as gently and humbly, as I have ever heard. She was a very private and independent soul and eluded any attention, as if it were a plague. This is why I will not divulge her name, though it was a lovely one.

    These seeds will be planted at the next rabbit patch, I thought, while I grieved her all over again. Leave it to me to commence to crying, while cleaning out a junk drawer, but it is quite overwhelming to have brushed shoulders with such a remarkable human . . and to have called her "friend". I felt so incredibly blessed as I held the the little envelopes.

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    Thankfully, there was that freezer to tackle, and surely this job, would not break, my heart, for a second time today. Within an hour, the food was transferred to the refrigerator freezer. I did leave a few items that really did not require freezing. I am in the habit of buying things on sale. I freeze odd things like corn meal, peanut butter and chocolate chips, to name a few. I am quite diligent about not wasting food, as it seems sinful, to me, and so I took great satisfaction that not one parcel was wasted. I turned the freezer to its' lowest setting and decided to make cookies. I can not help if it is pouring rain again hindering the yard work - and in some pleasant way, using the chips does aid my cause.

    Kyle came in early, due to the rain. The cookies lent a nice aroma to the kitchen and he noticed it right off. As has been my habit as of lately, of cooking things "out of season" , I put on a pot of dried beans, for supper. I have a little ham which will pair well with the beans.

    I listened to a wonderful lecture about quantum physics (on a very elementary level) and then read how this could be applied to our spiritual life. It made me think a lot. I do not require science to believe in prayer, but I find it very interesting when an expert in science can link the two subjects. We have all been conditioned to believe that science and spirituality are almost opposites - -or at least present conflict. What if that were not so? As much as I was intrigued, I was glad to get back in the kitchen and think about beans.

    The rain may have kept me house bound, physically, but work got done and I visited an old friend from a time now passed. . .who seemed to reach back to this world, with one more gift, to cheer me on. I entertained some lofty notions that somehow propelled my thoughts and made me consider, more greatly, the wonder of God.

    Dear Diary, These days are beautiful.
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