Turning Back Time

You can’t turn back time.  Unless you read our local newspaper, The Register-Guard, that is.   When I got the paper off the porch this morning, before I read the front page headlines or even the comics, I spied something curious in the classifieds.  The date at the top of the page read July 5, 2009

July 5?   The middle of summer?   Half a year ago? 

I remember July 5.  My husband Dan and I were sipping root beer floats and talking about the magnificent display of neighborhood fireworks the night before.  (We spent the past 30 or so years in Southern California where home fireworks are strictly forbidden.)

July 5 was one month minus three days before my birthday, so technically I was a year younger than I am now. 

And since The Call of Zulina wasn’t released until August, I had not yet had a novel published.  (All my other 33 books are non-fiction.)  Nor had I written the two following novels that are now on the editor’s desk.

On July 5, the weather was warm, but pleasantly so.  Little did we know it would soon soar to 107 degrees!  Or that just months later it would dip to 15 degrees.  That was all in the future.

On July 5, we lived in a different house in a different part of town.  We still had a major move ahead of us.  Yikes!  We had never even visited the church that now seems like our second family.  Funny, it feels as though we have known those folks forever.

Time does pass, doesn’t it?  Makes me wonder what all will happen between now and July 5, 2010.  I will be one month minus three days away from upping my age again.  I’ll be watching my doorstep for the first copies of my second novel in the Grace in Africa series, The Voyage of Promise.  It may be another hot summer, but even if it is–or if it plunges to record cold–Dan and I should be relatively comfortable because we are having a new heating and air conditioning system installed this week. 

Personally, I’m glad today wasn’t July 5, 2009.  I’m looking forward, not back, no matter what the newspaper says!

“Life forms illogical patterns.  It is haphazard and full of beauties which I try to catch as they fly by, for who knows whether any of them will ever return?”

Margot Fonteyn


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