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YESTERDAY, WHEN I CLIMBED TO THE ATTIC and returned those boxes of Christmas do-dads, I didn't simply shove them into the congested pile at the top of the stairway, as I'm wont to do. I ventured into the depths, snooping around for a more suitable spot to stash them. And that's how I happened to stumble on a time warp and ended up years ago.

Do you know, Dear Reader, how one can disappear into a box of old letters and find oneself....

...baking a birthday cake on a warm summer evening for a boyfriend who is sweeping one off one's feet. Taking her breath away. Making her head spin.

Dear Reader, I carted that box of letters downstairs to the dining room table. And I told myself don't even start! It was time to go and eat chicken corn pie.

But I reached in the box and I pulled out one letter at random:


Dearest Moma, Here it is after midnight already--so I'll have to make this fast and short. It seems funny to be writing to you when I've just talked to you twice already today.

I made the cake, and of course--as my cakes always do--it looks pretty goofy. It stuck to the pan when I turned it out. I had to try to patch it up. It's good, though--I sampled one of the two smaller layers, which each also had little hunks out of them where they stuck to the pan (I greased the pans--why did they do that?!)

Anyway--I think it will taste okay. He should realize it's the thought that counts.

He came over tonight. And so did (J). At the same time. It was rather awkward, I must admit. (J) came first, as I was trying to fix the messed-up cake. He was only here five minutes when (D) came to the door. He had delivered something to his sister, who lives nearby. Just as I was ready to tell him to come on in, the guy living two doors up got mad because (D) had parked in front of his trailer. So (D) left to move his truck. Then didn't come back. I was glad that he didn't see the cake--but I was sorry he didn't come back over.

He did scare (J) away, though---(J) left in a hurry about two minutes later. It was kind of funny really. I feel sorry for (J), but I would much rather be with (D).

....



I put down the letter. "It's time to get going! Plans are to eat at five!" I said to the man who had just come in from feeding his horses at the barn.
"Well, let's go!" said (D). Then we left the house, got in the car and drove away to eat chicken corn pie.