I signed my granddaughter Maddie up for Knitting Camp this week.  The way I figure it, I need to turn at least one other family member on to knitting so she can inherit my yarn stash.  I have more yarn than any one person could possibly knit in a single lifetime.

Maddie phoned after her class and told me all about her wonderful adventures.  She learned how to crochet to embellish flip-flops and promised to teach me.  My daughter phoned this morning and told me when she checked on Maddie at bedtime, the little darling was asleep with yarn and a knitting needle in her hand.  This is a child after my own heart!

Chicago was fabulous.  I signed my knitting pattern books at the Leisure Arts booth at the Craft and Hobby Show.  Walking around the show was an insight into what’s hot in crafts in America.  Definitely, scrapbooking is king.  Who knew?  I visited with the good people at the Lion Brand Yarn booth.  They have some wonderful new yarns coming out that really impressed me.  What can I say?  So much yarn and so little time . . .

I finally unpacked fromReno and was carting my suitcase downstairs when I realized I’m leaving for Chicago in the morning. I swear, I’m meeting myself coming and going.

I’ll be at the Craft and Hobby Show in Rosemont, autographing in the Leisure  Arts booth. I’ll be signing the pattern books based on the Blossom Street series. (This is a trade show, so I’m sorry to say unless you’re a member of the Craft and Hobby Association, you won’t be able to attend.)

In case no one thought about this, having me show up at a craft show with a credit card in my hand is dangerous. Downright dangerous.There’s still plenty of room for yarn in our basement, and if Wayne says one disparaging word, all I need to do is point at the half-completed airplane in his work room.  Stay tuned!

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but as often as possible I swim in the mornings.  Unfortunately, I wrenched my arm on tour while carting my 100-pound computer (that’s only a slight exaggeration), so lately my swimming has been slow and painful.  I mention all this to tell you that there’s an entire group of us who water-walk after swimming our laps.  We visit and exchange recipes.  I tried a new one recently and thought I’d pass it along to those of you who read my blogs.  It’s for a pot roast.  Instead of adding water to the roast before placing it in the oven or crock pot, add two cups of coffee with a tablespoon of concentrated beef broth.  Add a quartered onion or two and fresh rosemary if you have it.  This makes incredibly wonderful gravy.  Enjoy!

Wayne and I had a glorious weekend in Reno with seven of the grandkids.  I’ll admit it was a lot like herding monkeys and we were grateful our two daughters and one daughter-in-law were there to help. The highlight of our trip was in Virginia City where the two oldest boys got T-shirts from the Bucket of Blood Saloon and we watched a staged Old West shoot-out.  We returned from Circus-Circus with an entire suitcase filled with stuffed animals and memories that will last a lifetime.

Wayne caught the cleaning bug. I’m proud to say all the sorting and organizing I’ve been doing appears to have rubbed off on him.  Last week he decided to go through the garage. I was grateful. While I was able to park my car, it was becoming increasingly difficult to open the door and climb out.

The first item he found was a case of Mason jars I had stored in there. A single case of jars, mind you. You would have thought those jars took up the entire garage. He blew into the house and insisted that I was to "do something with those jars."  The dutiful wife that I am, I ventured out to see what else he was cleaning out, and found he’d loaded his trailer with what would commonly be called ‘junk’: a moldy tarp, a bowling ball bag with the stitching rotted out, a rusted propane tank, and other such stuff.

“Oh good, you’re getting a load ready to take to the dump.” A horrified look came over my husband. “The dump! I can’t get rid of this. I might need it some day.” I swear I am not making this up. Wayne insisted on keeping a rotted out bowling ball bag. The look on my face must have said it all, because he walked over to the case of jars and added it to his stack, all the while muttering that he’d find a space for those, too.