Sunday, Especially | 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.

    On this Sunday, I woke to the delightful sound of a steady, gently falling rain. I had slept soundly, after a busy Saturday. Waking up to rain, is much more satisfying than waking to an alarm shouting out. I was shocked to hear the mocking bird singing, in the midst of a shower. I am convinced that a mockingbird will sing under any condition, as I have heard their songs at night, too.

    With it being Sunday, a pot of beans is simmering and I have peeled apples for a bread pudding. If the rain slacks off, then I plan to quarrel with some hateful vines that are trespassing, in places like the "Quiet Garden", and around the sycamores, which belongs to the running periwinkle. If it rains all day, then at long last, maybe I will shop for geraniums. Empty flower pots look sad and lonely to me.

    Yesterday, I began painting the ceiling in the laundry room. I would have finished, except, I ran out of paint. I do not like to paint ceilings, but what a difference it makes. I also set about to straightening up the storage barn. I got two large items out to donate, and since I had to make the drop off, I tackled the china closet .. . and then a cabinet. How I came up with three more boxes of things is beyond me. I thought for sure, that after the truck loads that left from here, last summer, I was finished. I have been quite particular about what comes in to the house, ever since. Still, I managed to fill three more boxes full of things that might be useful to others that I just do not need. I also did laundry . . .This is why I slept so soundly, that I can not recall a single dream.

    Just before noon, the table was set and a meatloaf was browning in the oven. Between showers, I had made a mad dash to the herb garden and collected chives and apple mint. I later, regretted not gathering roses, as well.

    Suddenly, the wind picked up, the rain started pouring heavily and it thundered. That is when Mama and Daddy drove up. I was frying cornbread. Christian asked me if we had an umbrella and I looked at him, stunned, he would even think such a thing! Of course , Mama did -so Christian sprinted to them, and helped them in the door.

    We all enjoyed the "Sunday Dinner". Mama and I especially like the bread pudding. It had stopped raining, by the time Mama and Daddy left. That is when the weekend projects caught up with me (and the bread pudding)- and so I took a nap.

    I did eventually go out to tackle the vines. I do not take pleasure in such work, but it is so very necessary. Southern vines are ruthless characters. It is a dirty, itchy job and forces you to go in to dark nooks where you are likely to encounter all sorts of calamity. I made good progress, but welcomed the next shower, for it gave me permission to stop the awful chore.

    I did find an azalea that was robbed of its' blooms, is now recovering. That was good news. Christian and I both sighted rabbits today. This will soon be an ordinary event. It is the eve of the season when the territory will host dozens of young bunnies . . .and the fragrance of honeysuckle influences the country air . . so very sweetly.

    It rained off and on all of Sunday . The rabbit patch was in good order and the territory was improved somewhat. I was quite happy about the contents of the past days. There was a time to work, a time to rest and a time to gather with loved ones.

    I am glad for everyday . . .but I am especially glad for Sundays.