Today, I am back at the rabbit patch, where the air smells sweet, wild rabbits run about and the green grass grows all around. The only thing that went wrong, while I was gone is that Christopher Robin broke a cute little bird that sat on a pile of books and had been doing so a long while. The last time I was gone, he broke a favorite rabbit of mine-Christopher Robin does not like for me to leave the rabbit patch.
My youngest sons, Kyle and Christian, had held the fort down, other than the broken bird. They are good housekeepers too. Cash was especially glad to see me. Christopher Robin was too and showed no trace of guilt.
I am only here a short while as I return to Wilmington with Jenny and her family for a week on Friday. I have a lot to do while I am here. I wish the garden would grow in the same way the grass grows. The yard here is about five acres and shows no mercy for me or my plans. It’s a good thing I like to mow . It is a good time to think lofty thoughts or have a pipe dream. I do both. I know I will downsize one day, but I need a yard of some sort, when I do. I need something to tend. I need a place to grow roses and “Sweet Williams”.
Every season has something to boast about-the summer is passing with swagger, and rightfully so. The summer garden is hard to beat. A tomato in January, can not hold a candle to the ones picked in July, with zinnias growing around them. It is a good thing to pick tomatoes in the evening when fireflies are flashing and honeysuckle is blooming. Such conditions will make you linger and remember the summers past.
The kitchen smells like summer just now. A kind neighbor brought me about eight pounds of cucumbers. He is generous like that and has been every year, as long as I have known him. It is refreshing to have such a neighbor. The community around the rabbit patch is made up of nice folks. He threw in a good “mess” of sweet corn too-sweet corn is one of the best things about summer. We are in “high cotton” for supper tonight with sweet corn and cucumber salad.
There is something so pure about rural life. It’s a shame there are so few farming communities left. Mowing , gardening and preserving your own food gives one an understanding . Last year, one of my dearest friends was going through a “rough patch”. I listened to her predicament-it was heartbreaking. She was heart-broken. She paused a bit and then declared “I think I am just going to make pickles today!” She did. It is a long process to make pickles. We laugh about it now, but I suppose it was as good a thing to do as any-and she did end up with twelve quarts of pickles.
Hanging clothes on a line works like a charm to calm a weary heart. I plan supper when I am doing so. My daughter hangs cloth diapers on her line and it’s a lovely sight. When a shower pops up-there is a mad dash. On those days, I am thankful for a dryer.
I am writing this entry in front of a window fan-another thing I love about summer. Cash and Christopher Robin station themselves right in front of it. It is as good as a slow rain to sleep by .
Summer time means a lot of things depending on where you live. It is a celebrated season no matter what place you call “Home”. At the rabbit patch, it means clotheslines and window fans. It is the time when a kind neighbor shows up with cucumbers and sweet corn, and makes me glad that I live on this rabbit patch all over again with its’ old trees. . . and the green grass that grows all around it.