The Snow that Lingers

January 10, 2017January 10, 2017 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 24 Comments

My affair with snow is quickly on the decline. The snow that lingers around the barns, and under the pines is hardly snow at all anymore. It lies in old silvery patches now and pales in comparison to its’ previous form. The diamonds have melted on the trees too. On the drive to work, I saw their last attempt at glory and it was a beautiful grand finale. It reminded me of the verse, about “the trees singing out in joy”. They were this morning, when I saw them.

The rabbit patch territory is an awful mess now. Where the snow used to lay and glisten in the moonlight-is now mud and slush which tracks dependably all over the farmhouse floors. We all leave a footprint, no matter how carefully we tread. It is a good thing that the pipes thawed today.

In spite of the the snows’ uncivilized departure, my affection for it remains. I watched it fall. Sometimes it fell fiercely and then later , it fell like feathers wafting. Snow seldom falls in most southern winters, so I took great notice of the occasion. I have no idea, how to put chains on tires, or even what that means. I bought a snow shovel years ago-very cheap, which we used for goat chow and oats for the little horse. I can not fathom shoveling snow, before you go to work on bitter cold mornings, either. Under those conditions, I may not have counted a snowfall a glorious affair-but for me, at that moment, it was.

I have often complained about the ways of country birds. I have said they were an independent lot and unappreciative of my bird feeders. My friend, Rae lives in town and has named the birds in her back yard. They are on such good terms. The town birds are friendly like that. I took another chance on the ice-and put seed out just in case the rabbit patch birds would change their minds when faced with ice. Moon Shine, who used to be wild, set up camp in a chair by the window. When his eyes began to dart around and a curious look was on his face, I sprang to the window, just in time to see cardinals, robins and a little sparrow eating mightily together. I thought of my grandmother. She loved birds and taught me to do the same.

The farmhouse is almost cold in winter. We will ferry wood on foot for a while, in mud. We will track the mud everywhere, it ought not to be. Rabbit sightings are scarce and nothing growing yields a fragrant bloom in this season-but I have noticed the stars seem bigger in a winter sky and moonlight on snow is enchanting. The hearth is warm with fire brightly burning and sometimes the trees sing out. . . and I think we ought to love the winter too.

Snow and Ice-and Something Nice

January 9, 2017January 9, 2017 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 35 Comments

This is the coldest morning of the year-the coldest morning in many years, actually. It may be the coldest morning of my life. The lovely snow is ice now. Schools are closed and so I am by the morning table watching the sun light the rabbit patch up. It is a beautiful morning to behold. You can hear a truck a mile away in this silence.

The boys made it home yesterday afternoon. Both of them nearly got stuck in the yard, so wood must be brought in on foot. There are no sidewalks at the rabbit patch, so I expect a good deal of the rabbit patch soil to end up on the floors of the old farm house.

I have an agenda , in spite of the sense that all motion has ceased in the community around the rabbit patch. Soup is on the stove already simmering and if I can get out from under the heated blanket, I will make cornbread. Kyle will convince me to make cinnamon buns, at some point. He, like Moon Shine, must eat all day to stay alive.

I hope to call an old friend today and actually have a leisure conversation. This may be one of the few luxuries that the ice affords. I find it ironic, that before dish washers and dryers, microwaves and instant potatoes, people had time to visit. My mama and grandmama visited “Mama Hodges” and Aunt Agnes every week. Miss Delphie came over too, who could” find things growing on a ditch bank and make an arrangement fit for Sundays’ Church services” so grandmama said. The women talked, traded recipes and probably solved a lot of the worlds’ problems while the children played outside in unhindered free play. That was something nice. The gathering broke up in late morning, so the twelve o’clock “dinner” could be prepared. There were no canned biscuits either, then-and cakes did not come in boxes.

This was really only fifty years ago, and it startles to me to think how things have so dramatically changed. Grandmama had a “saying” she quoted often-“Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water.” It meant while you were throwing things out or changing something up, you might lose the most precious thing about it-and I fear we may do that – and often. Of course, childhood has changed too. No one worried about training us for the Olympics and we played our ball games in back yards while the adults made ice cream. It is quite an occasion to see an unorganized ball game in a back yard now, I notice. Of course, I grew up in the rural USA, and I take that in to consideration, but still I wonder how people grew vegetables, canned them, hung clothes on lines, tended to their children at home and still had time to visit on a Tuesday morning.

I guess when ice covers the world outside of the back door and as far as can be seen, I remember that I tend to go “kicking and screaming” in to the modern world, on the best of days. I like the great advancements in medicine and communications. I like convenience too-it just seems like we lost something beautiful, on the way to “here” and we might ought to go back and look for it -or maybe Thomas Wolfe was right, after all, when he said “You can’t go home again.”

No matter, how I got here, I hope to always grow tomatoes in the spring and can them in late summer. I will decorate cakes with wild violets and eat on china instead of paper. In this way, I will tell Lyla, and all of those after her, the story of those before her. . . Her great great grandmother Edna was right and so I will do my best, to “not throw the baby out with the bath water.”

Morning Shine

January 8, 2017 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 24 Comments

I am a long time admirer of “morning shine”, and never so more than now, when it falls on a field of snow . These mornings, when snow is on the rabbit patch, are few and far between- and so when I went out for wood, I braved the icy trek to the quiet field behind the oldest barn. I did question my decision several times along the way. The air seemed brittle and likely to shatter. The ice made every step a challenge to stay upright, but when I saw the field covered in snow, and the morning shine on it, I was not sorry. I was looking at a field of diamonds-and nothing less. I felt like I was at church and that it was a holy day.

I did gather some wood eventually and made it back to the old and cold farmhouse. I have never been good at starting a fire, but this morning I had a softly burning fire in good time. The pipes did not freeze last night, so I put a pot of beans on. The animals seemed on the brink of starvation, so I fed them and sat down to remember the morning shine on the quiet field.

It wasn’t long before the beans started simmering. The animals, content with full stomachs, gathered to sleep by the warmth and I settled by the morning table under an electric heated throw that Tres and Kelsey had given me. My coffee is in an adorable china cup that Miss Alethia, Jo Dees’ mom gave me . I am surely in a lovely place at this moment.

If someone had told me in my youth that sitting in a chilly farmhouse while a pot of beans simmered on the stove would be a lovely moment in my later life, surely I would have sunk in despair. This was not what I imagined in youth, to be a joyful moment. I think we spend our youth gathering tokens, of sorts. As we go along, we discard, til at last we understand ourselves enough to know what we truly value. Those things, we cling to and hold fast. In this way, we are born slowly and our authenticity is revealed in our very deliberate lives.

I can not feel sorry, that for now I am on a humble rabbit patch. I stood in morning shine by a field today and it did not seem like a tragedy. . . or a lesser life.

Hoping “Woods Will Fill Up With Snow”

January 8, 2017January 8, 2017 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 24 Comments

I have spent the last several days waiting to watch the woods at the rabbit patch, “fill up with snow.” The weatherman promised it-and we all believed it. By Thursday, bread was scarce in grocery stores. Everyone planned to cook beans and stews, including me. I planned to post a new picture of the rabbit patch, covered with snow-and I still may. The forecast called for about seven inches-I think we have two, at best. When there is any snow, in the southeast, we raise a ruckus. We are not equipped as my northern friends point out. Farmers clear backroads, like the one the rabbit patch is on. I have made a snowman, maybe a dozen times, in my life. I have never been sledding , but I have seen a field covered in the bright white of snow and I have seen the light of the moon on new fallen snow and I find both to be beautiful-and so snow is a grand event to me.

I woke very early this morning to drink coffee and write while the snow fell. It was still dark, but I saw a good “dusting” and waited for more. The wind was blowing with a howling sound and there was ice on the bare limbs of the great sycamores. The pines looked like Christmas trees when the first light came, but the air was void of the precious snowflakes.

I did put some birdseed out by the window at the morning table. Country birds do not depend on feeders as their “cousins in town”seem to-unless it snows, that is. Moon Shine sat by the window and watched, but did not seem tempted in the least. He is too civilized now for such things as feathers. He drinks cream from a bowl and naps on a soft blanket, in the company of Christopher Robin.

It started snowing , in the afternoon, though the flakes were fine-some would say,”unimpressive”. They still counted, to me. They may not afford me the chance , as Robert Frost said, ” to watch the woods fill up with snow” nor to gather enough for snow cream . . . nor to build a snowman-but they counted.

I made a trip to the wood pile and found the snow was too icy to even make a snow lantern. Cash raced around the yard unhindered by the notion, he could fall and break a hip. The light in the pump house was out, so I had to make another trip to replace that. Kyle and Christian opted to “get stranded” with friends and I didn’t blame them a bit- til I needed wood and a light bulb.

The wind chill is an unfamiliar temperature at the rabbit patch. It is a single digit , though they haven’t said which one. The weatherman may have lost his confidence, after all. I know that my “winter coat” was not made for this weather and my footwear left a lot to be desired, too.

The night fell early, but the wind does not sleep, it seems. Instead, it is “ripping and rearing” around the territory like it has an old score to even. I hope the rabbits are burrowed deep, for remember, they are southern rabbits.

There is most of a moon tonight and the stars are shining their silver light -so the rabbit patch is especially lovely on this night in January. . .even if it was a light snow and a cold wind blew.

Things Hoped For

January 4, 2017January 5, 2017 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 23 Comments

I returned to the rabbit patch from Elizabeth City and found things in good order. The boys had kept the place tidy-and Christopher Robin was sleeping peacefully , as if he were a well mannered cat and had not caused a ruckus, recently. Cash, my boxer was especially glad to see me. Cash had nothing to feel shame about, neither did Moon Shine, formerly known as “the wild kitten”. Moon Shine is now a pudgy kitten with a most unusual voice. He s quite talkative and makes all sorts of sounds, that I have never heard any other cat make. At times, he sounds like a small child-at other times, he sounds like a tropical bird. He was singing and Cash was dancing while Christopher Robin slept through my homecoming. Even so, I could not hold it against him. I was so glad he was home.

The drive home on Tuesday was almost treacherous. A thick blanket of fog made the now familiar drive, seem like a strange venture. Places that I now consider my landmarks, were hidden- even the highway seemed to unfold only a few feet before me. At times, I was sure I was the only one left in the world, then there would be a sign of life in headlights that appeared for a few seconds and then vanished just as quickly.

The lights in the old farmhouse on the rabbit patch were a welcome sight. When supper was cooking, I sat down to relax. I thought how quiet the world is when fog fills the air. All of the commotion at the beginning of the new year seemed a long ways off. I liked the stillness that hovered over the rabbit patch, like a “spell ” that prevented any sort of rushing or haste. The ride home, with its’ obscurity meant I would not miss the serenity of seeing how magical mist looks hanging over water.

Fog renders a sense of timelessness in the countryside. All of the rabbit patch becomes a “Quiet Garden” and the old trees, bare now, in January looked like they were wearing tinsel.

The animals were all napping as I stared out the window by the morning table. I could barely make out the biggest old barn . Sometimes it is like that-we do not always have total clarity to see things. When things make good sense, we feel content and confident-and if it were always so, I guess that faith would not seem so necessary-but it is when visibility of solutions are hindered, we have the opportunity to practice what we believe. I have read that “faith is the substance of things hoped for” and I have found it to be a beautiful truth.

The kitchen was smelling like”home” with a ham baking, so I decided to peel some potatoes. I am as happy peeling potatoes as some folks are counting money- and that is a good thing as I usually have more potatoes than money. I did some “wishful thinking” til the pot was full. Christopher Robin slept the whole time- and so, all was well at the rabbit patch .

Champagne and Redbirds

January 1, 2017January 1, 2017 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 38 Comments

The first day of the New Year is a cold and rainy event in Elizabeth City. The little town is quiet this morning-as far as I know, I could be the only one awake from the looks around. Street lamps may burn all day today.

Will and Jenny attended a fancy affair last night. They came home not long after the sound of fireworks proclaimed the new year. Lyla had been asleep a while and I was on the third series of Downton Abbey when the sky “cracked and snapped”- and light cascaded down in all sorts of hues.

I do not ponder “resolutions”. As it turns out, I often do poorly at keeping them and then there is a sense of failure and shame that I ate cookies within two weeks or cut my own hair in January. I do not wander about aimlessly, however. Instead, I self reflect, about daily. I do think about things that I would like to happen-but I am older now and realise that the most wonderful things I have ever known, were not my own plans. In light of this, I just expect things to work out-or pass. Living with an open heart is far from reckless behavior but in fact, takes a lot of self-discipline-and courage too, at first. I do not think it is irresponsible to practice our best behavior and expect the best.

I have found that I need less “things” than I used to. “Time is better than money” rings true for me. I would as soon watch a redbird in a young peach tree than most things. I would rather cook a pot of beans for my sons and talk while they simmer, than eat “high on the hog” because I worked a second job. Strolling with Lyla is a better way to get around, than driving a new car-for me. When it gets down to it-a cold glass of water is desired above champagne, when you work in a garden.

Of course, I am expecting to live abundantly in the new year. I am waiting for blessings ” beyond my wildest expectations” to unfold quite naturally . What I do while I wait, will make all the difference.

Already, the new year has been kind to me. Christopher Robin is home safe and sound! He sashayed across the rabbit patch like he had been away watching blue jays quarrel for an hour. He was hungry, but showed no signs of wear and tear, otherwise. I thought of all the prayers that had been lifted on behalf of this cat. Words of comfort and well wishes flooded in -and I felt humbled by it.

There is a lot of beauty in this world. Whatever we look for in the new year, we are going to find, or so it often seems. From the bottom of my heart, I wish everyone abundance, peace and love-and “The Greatest of these is Love.”

Fair-Weather Friends

December 30, 2016 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 17 Comments

I woke yesterday morning to the sound of a steady rain falling over the rabbit patch. Usually, I have to ignore the lullaby of rain and rush off as if it wasn’t a fine time to rest-but it is the blessed winter break and so I rested. It would have been completely blissful had I not wondered if Christopher Robin was dry.

After tidying up and packing to go to Jennys’ home in Elizabeth City, I paid bills. I detest business of any sort. It is a cold and impersonal task to sort through official papers full of rules and threats. “Pay by this date” or else they all seem to say. I would rather be pulling weeds or cooking, but the bills got paid anyway. I left straight a way to visit with my dear friends, Rae and Jo Dee. Jo Dee barbecued chicken and I think it was the best I ever ate. It reminded me of my grandmothers. Sauce did not always come in a bottle from the grocery store. Rae and I carried side dishes. I must mention that Rae made a sweet potato casserole that was topped with brown sugar and pecans. Rae is known to eat ice cream and cookies, for the majority of her meals. She is a small woman anyways and seems to flutter through life. We tease her relentlessly about her lonely stove and dishwasher, but she pulled this off, and deserves some glory.

Jo Dee, like me, lives in a big farmhouse. There are fields in the front and fields in the back. It is absolutely a beautiful setting. Her house and yard are quiet like mine, and with our children mostly grown, both territories seem empty. Rae lives in a big old house in town. She lives alone and so we are all especially thankful for the friendship we have-We loved each other before our children grew up, and Raes’ husband died-and before our houses became big and quiet. We are anything but, fair- weather friends.

When darkness fell, a cold wind blew in. When wind travels over a vast field, it brings with it, the scent of pine, Rae was surprised at how dark the countyside is at night. Clouds hid the stars I have been bragging about, but ever so often there was a break for Rae to see. We laughed like young girls most of the night and vowed to visit more regularly.

Against our better judgement, Rae left late at night to go home. She is brave like that-I brought pajamas. The countryside, of that community is full of deer. They dart by in herds, at any given moment. There are no streetlights to give warning-but Rae went anyway. She let us know when she got home and so we were able to sleep satisfactorily.

Jo Dee and I had coffee this morning. We talked a lot about God. Her little dog, Georgia listened and yawned like it was a too long “Sunday School” session. Jo Dee had left her Christmas tree up for Rae and I to see-so we sat in its’ light with our coffee and thoughts, while the sun rose over the field. I remarked before I left, that I was as content as I could be. . .and that I was quite thankful for such circumstances .

A Winter Night at the Rabbit Patch

December 28, 2016 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 27 Comments

The weather at the rabbit patch is mild, though it is early winter. Today, I have a few windows up. The air of winter has a clean, fresh fragrance. Often the morning air has a faint memory of woodsmoke from the night before. In the last few months , days have dawned slowly . The silvery fog mutes the suns’ first shine and seems to delay the days’ arrival. Today, dawned brightly-so morning came early.

I am still searching for Christopher Robin, a very young, softly gray colored cat. I do not fully understand the habits of cats. I have heard stories of cats that return after a while. I am so hoping this is the case. His young friend, Moon Shine, seems a bit bewildered and wanders about the farm house, past objects that once enticed him, without much notice. Cash, my loyal boxer seems on high alert and stares out the window, I think, with high expectations.

Late last night, Christian and I searched the rabbit patch high and low. We did not find Christopher Robin-but we heard the pine trees whispering as a light wind blew through them. We stopped a few moments to hear the hushed gentle sound that only a pine makes. The stars were scarce, but they were as big as I have ever seen them. In winter, they are scattered about so that the constellations are easy to find. The starlight was enough to illuminate the old trees-pecans and oaks, the sycamores and sweet gum. There wasn’t a single leaf on any of them. I remembered how I love trees in winter as I looked around.

Christian is my youngest son. His shadow in the starlight, was that of a young man. I couldn’t help but consider that . I know the rabbit patch like the back of my hand, where every root lies above ground-where the wild violets will bloom in April, but realising I was walking with Christian, now as young man, made it seem like unfamiliar territory . I saw the outline of an abandoned nest in one of the old trees right about that time.

We came in without a trace of the where abouts of Christopher Robin. I was glad the night was not harsh, but unusually warm, instead. We remain hopeful, as is our nature in all sorts of circumstances.

I am cooking a “Sunday dinner” though it is Wednesday. The boys went to work this morning and will be glad to see more than my fancy china on the table when they come home. Mama and daddy are coming, too. As the oven performs its’ duty, I am putting the “Christmas closet” back in order. I will place the wrapping paper and ribbon in the corner. The box of tags, scissors and tape will go back in and I will post a new list on the inside of the door to record gifts purchased through out the year. The porch and tree will remain as they are now til Miss Sylvia has her “old Christmas party” in January. In this way, Christmas does not “vanish into thin air” as if a crime had taken place-but has a proper farewell, instead.

This day in winter, like the night before it, has been as mild as May. Though, I can write, no matter the climate, I do not feel inclined to crochet when the sun is shining brightly on the morning table. I hope to finish reading “The Mitford Series” this winter . I am hoping against all odds, for snow, too.

The rabbit patch kitchen smells like a snow has fallen with the ham cooking and string beans simmering-but the open windows tattle that it could be the first day of spring or an Easter Sunday. After supper, I will go out to say good night and lift my evening prayer of thanksgiving for things like A “Sunday dinner” on a Wednesday night in late December, winter trees and seeing my little son become a young man willing to traipse around a rabbit patch on a winter night . . . . looking for a cat.

In Late December

December 27, 2016December 27, 2016 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 39 Comments

In late December and in the absence of Christmas, the rabbit patch is most quiet. The children went home yesterday. When the back door shut, I started missing them. I always indulge myself, on such occasions, by sitting quietly in the den and mourning for a while. For many years, I just cried outright and convinced myself that surely I suffered from some mental calamity.

Yesterday, I tried to avoid a ” nervous breakdown”-as folks used to call it. That term, when I was young, covered every sort of condition and mostly affected women. It could be brought on by such things as a flock of children in the house after three days of rain-though it was always the men that were yelling out and seemed in a state of panic. If a woman was caught crying, she was most likely having “a nervous breakdown”. So, in that case , I have had one most every year for a decade now, when Christmas is over, and the children go home.

Christmas was a beautiful affair, altogether. The days before it, I was with Jenny and we made every day count. There was a family gathering and later a luncheon. We shopped and wrapped presents. I came home early, Christmas Eve morning and went to work at the rabbit patch. I cleaned and cooked while the linens were washing. Mama and Daddy came for an early supper and Brant came home later on that night and so waiting for Tres, Kelsey, Jenny, Will and Lyla was more bearable.

The hours progressed in a typical holiday fashion with a sweet fanfare. Christmas night, we always gather at my parents. Christian brought his guitar and Lyla managed to hand out a few gifts-so there were some truly beautiful moments. The most shocking thing happened. I have said earlier that I had started a collection of a Lenox china pattern, Winter Greetings-I soon regretted that as it is entirely too expensive for my budget- and I am almost sixty years old. At the rate I was going, I needed to live much longer than members of the tribal communities in Brazil- My mom and sisters gave me twelve dinner plates! I opened the plates with its’ redbirds and ribbons and was on the verge of tears-My sister, Connie told me several times in the process, that this counted for my birthday too and daddy said I ought to be careful with them. I just kept unwrapping more redbirds with ribbons. I finally said “Now, all the children can get married!” -because now, I had a plate for each. It was a touching and funny moment, looking back.

Yesterday, we shared our last Christmas meal of this year. The sunroom needs a ceiling repair and a bedroom needs a new floor-but my table showed indications, that all was well at the rabbit patch. That table was “set by love” by the women in my family and I may sound vain, but it was beautiful!

This morning, is especially quiet and so I have already planned a strategy to avoid a “nervous breakdown” again, today. I will part with some of my other dishes to make room for that china. I will deal with left over food and I will look for Christopher Robin as he took a “a walk-about” and has never done so before. I looked this morning and saw a lifeless creature in the road. I glanced as it is all I could bare to do. I commenced to crying and vowed I could carry on without him. A neighbor saw me upset, and when I told her the story, she declared to me that what I had seen was not Christopher Robin, but a poor little rabbit. I went out again to the dreadful scene and found she was right. I had been crying an hour over losing the sweetest cat I had ever known, but now, with renewed strength, I will search again and proclaim him a naughty and worrisome companion, when I find him. I will fuss about his poor behavior, when a door is opened . . . . but oh, how, I hope I find him.

While “Silent Stars Go By”

December 23, 2016 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 15 Comments

I love the days before Christmas. Days pass presenting all sorts of tasks that I find pleasant. There is always one more present to wrap or a new decoration to add to the porch. Occasions are anticipated while the winter sun shines, for gatherings to come, when the silent stars go by.

Jenny and I had a successful shopping spree yesterday. We found several gifts that suited those still on our Christmas lists. Lyla was dressed in an adorable winter white dress-but was barefoot before our first purchase. She never quarreled about anything else, as no matter the direction she glanced, there were lights in all colors. Reindeer grazed around every corner, guarded by gallant nutcrackers and ” there were shepherds abiding- keeping watch over their flocks” too. “Silver Bells”, my grandmothers’ favorite carol, played while we shopped-and all of the other traditional songs of the season, did too. Lyla loves “Jingle Bells” and “Silent Night”.

Not long, after arriving home, Jenny and I began wrapping presents. Lyla reminded me of “Moon Shine’, my naughty kitten, at the Rabbitpatch”. She too, snatched any scrap of ribbon and paper . She also snatched chocolates and jewelry. She found her own bedroom shoes and put them on! Jenny wrapped them anyway.

Lyla and I went out to the porch, so Jenny could finish up. The afternoon was mild for December. We watched the neighbors hang more lights. A black cat came to visit and a neighbor brought a box of cookies. Ever so often, someone would walk by and say “Merry Christmas!” It was a nice while, we spent on the porch. I, who find solace in fields, now love sidewalks, too.

Last night, Will’s family came for dinner. They are a delightful lot and handsome too. The women are especially pretty . They are so friendly, you feel like you belong to them right off. Will has a lot of family in Elizabeth City, that means Jenny and Lyla do too. What good that does my heart, to think that all over the town, are people that love them.

Today, Jenny is having a luncheon- and I got up extra early, because of that. We still need to go to the coffee shop and again, to the grocery store. There is candy to be made and we will need to wrap the coffees. Such is the way of life at Christmas time-and the days before it. Many people say, that we ought to keep Christmas in our heart, all year round-and I can agree that the generosity and well wishes should be practiced in all seasons- but some things belong to Christmas, and I mean Christmas only. That is the reason gingerbread is not eaten on the beach in July, nor do we listen to songs about sleigh bells in April. Such things belong to Christmas-and Christmas only.

The “silent stars go by” til at last it will be Christmas Eve, when my children will come home . When I bought the rabbitpatch, a decade ago, a dear friend, knowing my love for all things Christmas, gave me a very old framed sampler. It is is dated 1909 and “Grace” had stitched her name neatly in the corner. It read, “All Hearts Come Home for Christmas”-and of all the wonderful things that happen during the holiday, I think Grace was right. . . and to me it is surely the most wondrous gift of all.

The Longest Evening of the Year

December 21, 2016 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 21 Comments

The first day of winter is here, and with it “the longest evening of the year.” I do not begrudge the way of winter. The rabbit patch , like all of the earth has earned the rest that winter offers. Fields lay bare, as they ought to now and trees do not cast shade, but both have served their purpose faithfully. They have fed us and so I can not bring myself to quarrel with either. The cold wind grooms the countryside with an icy hand at times and makes me grateful for the hearth in the old farmhouse.

Schools closed early today and does not resume til after the new year. I came home and wrapped a few more gifts while supper simmered. Moon Shine behaved awfully the entire time. I do not dare let him near the Christmas tree. There is an old french door keeping him out of mischief . I see how he stares through the glass panes and I declare he is plotting . He is a fat kitten with a shining tuxedo, these days before Christmas. It seems a long while ago that he was a wild kitten.

I will spend the first few days of winter, in Elizabeth City. Jenny and I have some shopping left. I do not mind shopping in little book stores , nor looking for fine coffee. My Christmas list is tattered and worn by now. Soon, it will be placed in a scrap book as a record , of sorts. Lyla has already opened “The Night Before Christmas” and tomorrow she will open a little china cup, that Jenny predicts, will not last long.

The truth is, most gifts do “not last long”. Some are used up. Many get scattered about or broken, by and by. Trendy gifts lose their charm very quickly and any sort of gadget becomes out-dated in less than a fortnight. People say “it is the thought that counts” and I have found this to be accurate.

When my grandmother died, Pop, did not know what to do with Christmas. Delores and I were very young teenagers, the year he decided to shop on his own. Delores opened her gift first. It was a set of earrings-and they were ugly. She held one of them up, stunned. They were bold and big. I could not imagine any occasion to wear them and the look on her face caused me to cackle. I finally sputtered something about their beauty and how I couldn’t wait to see her wear them. Delores gave me a hateful look , which tickled me more. Pop, was totally unaware of my amusement-he was upset because Delores had opened MY present! Oh, how swiftly revenge came. Now Delores, was laughing as she handed me the box with deepest regrets. She ended up with a dainty necklace, pretty enough to put on right that minute.

I am older now and have since imagined Pop in the unfamiliar territory of a store that did not sell fertilizer. I wonder how long it took him to pick out our gifts and I am just sure he did put a lot of thought in them. I am also sure he had rather been cleaning out a barn or mowing a ditch bank than shopping. Sadly, I do not know what became of those earrings, but I remember Pop presenting his gifts proudly with a big smile . . . It really is the thought that counts, after all- for that is what has lingered within me. That happened many, many winters ago, when I was young- and before I understood such things.

The Sunday Before Christmas

December 18, 2016December 19, 2016 ~ rabbitpatchdiary.com ~ 16 Comments

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I woke up this Sunday before Christmas, in Elizabeth City. I am usually the first one to wake, no matter, the roof I am under, and today was no different. I did not stir the first few minutes as “visions of sugar plums” were still in my head. It may as well have been Christmas morning, a long time ago. I woke from sleep under the same roof that Tres and Jenny slept beneath-and I do not know why it made such a difference, but it did. I did not want to break that beautiful spell. If reindeer had been grazing in the yard, it would have seemed quite ordinary-this Sunday before Christmas.

I did rouse, for coffee. I needed to consider breakfast and went to the porch, to do so. Outside, it was April. Christmas lights lit the street and blackbirds were flying-otherwise, I could have declared it was early spring and so I warned the willow, not to be fooled.

Kelsey joined me first. Kelsey is a sweet soul, who helps tremendously, in quiet ways. She tends to tie loose strings, neatly and does not need a bit of fanfare for it. Every family would benefit from having someone like Kelsey to claim as their own.

Jenny came downstairs with Lyla next. Lyla wakes up sweet and mild . She says “good morning” with smiles and gentle hugs . Jenny made more coffee and planned the breakfast. Jenny is a capable young woman and a good homemaker, which to me is noble. She and Will had gone to a sophisticated Christmas party, the night before. I watched her get ready while she gave me details about Lylas’ supper and which pajamas she would wear. Kelsey gave Jenny a fancy hairdoo and helped her to decide what to wear. It did not seem too long ago that Jenny had asked Santa Clause for fried chicken and diamond earrings. I “pondered these things in my heart” as all mothers do.

When the house smelled like bacon, Will and Tres got up. The atmosphere was lively and happy. I was “having a wonderful life” in that kitchen, this Sunday before Christmas-and it seemed to me that before I open the first gift of this Christmas, I can say with certainty, I already have everything, I have ever wanted.