My thirteen-year-old granddaughter, Jazmine, volunteered with our church to minister to the homeless in Portland, Oregon.  She arrived at the church with three suitcases--one entire suitcase contained her hair products and make-up.  The church limited her to two suitcases and it was horrible for her to have  to choose which two.  The next thing I heard sent shivers down my spine:  Jazmine had to relinquish her cell phone.   They might as well have ripped off her right arm!  Then yesterday, in an effort to teach her what it means to be homeless, the Portland church sent Jazmine and her fellow helpers onto the streets with one change of clothes, a single dollar bill, a pillow, and a sleeping bag.  Last night Jazmine phoned her mother and said, “Mom, oh, Mom, you won’t believe this.  I ate lunch in a soup kitchen.”  I think my sweet baby girl is learning far more than she ever anticipated. 

I’m reading the best book.  My friend, Jill Marie Landis, is one of my most favorite authors.  She took a short hiatus from writing and is back with what I feel might be her very best book to date, a historical titled Homecoming, a July release.  Homecoming has kept me up late several nights, because I just had to know what was going to happen next.  If you haven’t read Jill before, then treat yourself to a truly wonderful read. 

I had a wonderful, lazy weekend.  I sat outside in the sunshine after church on Sunday and read, followed by a long nap on our front patio.  I guess I was resting up for the next few weekends when I’ll be traveling. 

I leave on the 28th for San Francisco for the big Romance Writers of America conference.  Then Wayne and I  will  head  to his family reunion in Colville, Washington, followed by a trip to Gettysburg with our friends Gary and Marsha Roche.  We’re gonna be busy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way . . . well, maybe every once in a while.  Oops, I can hear that patio furniture calling to me now. 

Once I finish swimming my half mile in the morning, I speed walk around the pool with my friends Rachel and Alice.  We share recipes and talk about food the entire time.  I was telling them about a great pork chop recipe I recently found that sounded so good and easy.  Brown four pork chops in butter or oil, salt and pepper to taste, add two sliced apples (skins on) across the top of the browned chops, add ½ cup maple syrup, cover and cook 20 minutes.  Sounds yummy, doesn’t it?  Alice cooks her pork roasts with homemade sauerkraut and onions in the crock pot.  I’m trying that recipe this weekend.  People wonder why it is we exercise so diligently and never seem to loose weight.  Now you know--we hurry home and cook! 

Wayne is away for the rest of the week with our youngest son, Dale, for a Father/Son getaway.  That means that I’m not cooking, which gives me more time for—you guessed it—knitting.  I recently finished an alpaca/wool sweater for four year-old Isaiah with the cutest horse buttons.  I showed it to him, only to learn he now loves dinosaurs.  That’s not a problem for Grandma Pickle.  I found the cutest dinosaur hat that looks as if it was designed just for him.  You know what they say: . . . .so much yarn and so little time. 

It’s party time for the Macomber household.  First off, I’m finishing the writing process on SUMMER ON BLOSSOM STREET, my 2009 hardcover.  I still need to edit and polish it before my editor sees it, but the first major step is just a few pages from being complete.  Secondly, I received word from my agent this morning that the negotiations for my new contract are complete.  This means that two more Blossom Street books, two additional Cedar Cove books, and two more Christmas stories are now on my schedule. I do believe Wayne and I will be sipping champagne tonight.  

I was scheduled for jury duty all this week, but, in the end, I wasn’t chosen to sit on the jury.  I spent most of yesterday at the courthouse, which was an adventure in itself.  I came away with a deep appreciation of our judicial system and an even greater one that my number didn’t get picked (although I would have done my civic duty had it been required). Now I’m free to spend time with Rhett and Claudia, our Florida friends, who are flying in to visit this week.  Instead of studying the law and the judge’s instructions, I’ll be in downtown Seattle, looking at the view from the Space Needle and walking through Pike Place Market.  If you see someone in Seattle with a big smile on her face, that just might be me.

Wayne and I had a wonderful 4th of July weekend.  We did absolutely nothing.  For most of Saturday I piddled around in my yarn room.  Wayne says I’m like Midas with his gold.  I fondle my skeins, scour through my pattern books, and spend copious amounts of time just sorting through a variety of projects that are just waiting for me to grab my needles. 

Oh, Ted (our son staying in our Florida condo) phoned with another question (see post from July 1).  He wanted to know if we kept touch-up paint handy.  Then he laughed and said he was just kidding.

The 4th of July reminds me of potato salad and my father.  He loved potato salad.  In fact, I was married before I realized that not everyone ate potato salad for breakfast.  (Try it with fried eggs; it's great!)  Dad was proud to be an American and served his country honorably.  He was a POW in WWII and he marched in every hometown parade and flew the American flag proudly.  We owe our freedom to honorable men like my dad.  You can bet I’ll be eating potato salad tomorrow.  Happy 4th of July, everyone. 

While I was away on tour, the last of my father’s brother passed away.  My Uncle Bernard lived a long, fruitful life and was so very precious to each one of us.  What I loved most about him was his dry sense of humor and his quick wit.  My cousin Linda told me about a particular telephone call she had with Uncle Bernard.  It was after eight in the evening and she was a little afraid he might be getting ready for bed, so she asked, “Uncle Bernard, are you in your pajamas?”  My sweet uncle hesitated and then drawled out, “No . . .  but I can put them on if you want me to!”