I was up especially early, today-but I still missed “the morning service”. I did not say my prayers, til two am, just a few hours, before I roused. The sweet little housekeeping work on Monday, turned out to be grueling. One thing led to another, and the next thing I knew, we were moving furniture and painting more trim. I also packed up a huge collection of Nutcrackers, that belong to Tres and a herd of piggy banks, that belongs to Kyle. Christian decided to wash every article of his clothing, before he put it back in his closet-that through a kink in the plan. I wanted to wash all the curtains and linens, so the laundry piled up, while young spiders made more cobwebs. By four o’clock, Christian and I were cranky and answered each other curtly. Cash stayed out of the way. I had banished the cats to the barn, as they do not follow directions and are very likely to dip their paws in wet paint. If you scold them they run around the room, three times, tracking prints. By the time Kyle came in from work, Christian and I were barely on good terms. Kyle knew Christian and I were never cross with one another, and being perplexed, he asked “What happened?”. Christian and I both said “Nothing!!” in rude tones. This broke the tension, like a charm. I told Kyle, “the realtor comes tomorrow-remember?”.
I ended up making a run to Williamston, to get a new shower curtain, new sheets for a bedroom and new pillows. My mother would never have gone to a store, in the condition I was in. I do not think I had combed my hair all day and I was in “housekeeping” attire, as well. Thankfully, I found what I needed quickly, and did not see anyone that knew me.
The night was as long as the day. I went to bed, thinking about a bag of trash, I had left on the porch and curtains that needed to be hung.
The meeting with the realtor lasted a few hours. We walked the territory, down the wooded path, into the “Quiet Garden” and around the fruit trees and flowers. We peered in a lot of the barns, too. When the house had been thoroughly inspected, we settled at the kitchen table to talk business. The realtor was nice and down to earth. I liked her right off. I was pleased with the results and think I may can “get out alive”, after all. Time will tell.
When the realtor left, I put on a nightgown and ate a bowl of ice cream. I called Rae, and we decided we wanted to visit. Rae and I have been friends for more than two decades, so I did not have to change clothes. We had a sweet talk around the kitchen table. Rae had ice cream and of course, peach cobbler. I am certain, that was her supper. We took a walk, as it was so pleasant outside today. We admired the flowers and butterflies. We picked a few peaches, too. Oh how lovely it was!
Rae left to attend her weekly ballroom dance class. I sat quietly reflecting on the past few weeks. I have “gotten rich” off of this rabbit patch, I thought. My bank account does not bear witness to this, . . even the sale of the rabbit patch, will not remedy that. . . but how wealthy I have become.
I have learned a good amount here. I know that hard work makes you sleep better and relieves frustration. Authentic joy does not fade, nor break, nor get lost. It can not be bought nor sold, and it may show up in a pine tree. Simplicity is beautiful. It does not confine us, as we may first believe, but instead is liberating. Planting heals. The soil takes our sorrows, and like a good mother, helps us grow. There are millions of stars, and they are not reserved for kings. As it is written, “the rain does fall on everybody, whether or not we are just”. The robin sings and the rose gives bloom -and we all have the same chance to notice.
The rabbit patch is not selfish, and does not limit its’ generosity to the territory. I will carry my precious jewels wherever I abide. I may be here for a many more seasons, or not-but I am certain of something. . . I got rich off of a rabbit patch and the storehouse is in my heart, “where moth and rust cannot corrupt”.
Dear Diary, I am glad that I have lived on a rabbit patch.