Three of my grandchildren were at the house last night to judge THE TRULY TERRIBLY HORRIBLE SWEATER . . . THAT GRANDMA KNIT Coloring Contest.  They made their decision, and the winners will be notified shortly. It was fun watching them go through the decision process.

My daughter, Jenny Adele, had a meeting, so she was late picking up Maddy.  After a while Maddy got restless, so I played a game with her.  I asked her to tell me three things about her day.  Two should be true,  and one would be a lie, and then I would guess which one was the lie.  Maddy thought and thought and then she said.  “Grandma, it’s harder to lie than you think it is.”  Ah, out of the mouth of babes . . . .

Wayne and I attended a charity dinner event for Hospice of Kitsap County with friends Susan Mallery (Be sure to check out Susan’s book, Hot On Her Heels, which is currently on the stands!) and her husband, Mike Redmond.  The Kingsmen of Louie, Louie and Jolly Green Giant fame performed.  Wayne literally dragged me up on stage to dance while the band performed their last number.  I have to say this ole body of mine doesn’t exactly Twist and Shout the way it once did--I’ve got too many replacement parts these days.  Still, a good time was had by all! 

I’m flying off to Dayton, OH tomorrow morning. This will be my first experience getting through airport security with my new knee. Several years back I had an airport incident that still causes me to hyperventilate every time I think about it. My parents were moving from their home to an assisted living complex, and I flew from Florida to help with the transition. My mother had a special butcher knife she loved and wanted to be sure I got, so WITHOUT MY KNOWING she tucked it into my carry-on bag. I arrived at the airport and was pulled aside at security and the man started emptying my bag. Chatting away, I explained that I had knitting with me. He assured me it wasn’t the knitting, and with that he pulled out this huge butcher knife. I nearly fainted. Now as I walk through Sea-Tac airport I see my mother’s special knife on display as Items People Have Tried to Bring Aboard An Aircraft.

Happy Halloween!  Because we live at the end of a long driveway that winds though lots of trees, and our house isn't visible from the road,  we don’t get Trick or Treaters. Nevertheless, I find it necessary to fill my ceramic pumpkin bowl with candy goodies.  It just wouldn’t be right if I had an empty bowl by the front door.  The thing is, the candy keeps disappearing.  Now there are only three of us in the house--Wayne, me and Bogie.  I’m not eating it (okay, a few, but not many) and Bogie isn’t eating it at all.  That leaves only one person, who swears by all that’s holy he didn’t finish off the entire bowl.  Really?  Wayne Macomber, if that’s the case, how come you had trouble buttoning your pants this morning?

I’m doing an autographing at Yorkshire Yarns later this afternoon.  To my surprise, Wayne offered to go with me.  That is rather unusual for him.  If he does attend an autographing he generally goes to an entirely different section of the bookstore so that no one will make the connection between the two of us.  Then he’ll wander by once or twice to see how the line is moving.  If I point him out, he smiles and quickly leaves.  So when Wayne offered to attend the signing with me, I knew something was up.  It didn’t take me long to figure out why he was interested in this particular autographing.  It’s the yarn store aspect.  My husband knows me far too well and when it comes to yarn, I’m weak.  I could potentially buy out half the store, and Wayne knows it.  His offer to accompany me is for yarn control!!!

For those of you who are patiently, and not-so-patiently, waiting for 1022 EVERGREEN PLACE, I have good news and bad news.  The good news is that I’m writing like a fiend.  The story is moving along beautifully, and, frankly, I think it might be the best Cedar Cove book to date.  The bad news is that after three complete weeks away from the office following knee replacement surgery, I’m hopelessly behind.  Yes, the book will get written, and yes, it’s going to be great, and yes, it will be on the shelves on time--in late August of 2010. The only negative is personal--the grey hairs I’m accumulating in the process!

I’ve enjoyed reading the responses to my blogs.  For those of you who' ve asked about the book Wayne was reading so intently that he didn’t notice I had arrived home, I have an answer for you.  He was not reading one of my books.  It was The Devil’s Punchbowl by Greg Iles. 

My husband has read one, maybe two, of my books during my thirty-year publishing career.  There’s a very good reason Wayne doesn’t read my books.  First off, it isn’t a genre he enjoys, and secondly, he gets emotional.  No kidding.  I watched him read my first angel book and saw him wipe away a tear before he gruffly commented that it looked like a pretty good book, but he really wasn’t into that angel stuff.

Wayne is reading far too many mysteries.  I say this because we received a phone call claiming that the burglar alarm had gone off and police had been dispatched.  I was half asleep when the call came, so I quickly dressed and Wayne and I rushed down to the office--to find no one there.  
 
When I contacted the alarm company, they said they hadn’t phoned.  Wayne grabbed the phone and called 9-1-1, convinced it was a set up to get us out of the house.  With our hearts pumping we raced home to discover the police standing guard.  To shorten the story, the alarm that went off was at our Florida home.  We still don’t know what set it off, but all is well, although it took Wayne and me until around three in the morning to fall asleep again. 

Having a creative imagination can be a frightening gift.  For example, last night I drove home from the office to find the house locked and Wayne missing.  All the cars were home, so I did a quick search of the house.

Wayne wasn't anywhere to be found.  I started dinner, but my head was filled with dread.  Fearing Wayne might have had a heart attack, I searched outside and looked down from the deck into the ravine next to our home.  Ninety minutes later panic mode started to set in.

o My husband had been kidnapped.
o He walked up to get the mail and suffered a stroke and couldn't find his way home.
o He was injured and had fallen somewhere on our property.
o I called all four of the kids.  None of them had heard from their father.
o I phoned our friends.  No one had heard from Wayne.

Our son Ted called me back.  Something is terribly wrong, he asserted.  Go outside and look again.
I did, and as I circled around the front yard I caught a movement inside Wayne's truck.  My husband was sitting inside his truck READING!  He'd run an errand, locked himself out of the house, and was waiting for me to get home.  The problem was he was so engrossed in his book that he hadn't noticed when I arrived, parked the car in the garage, and closed the door! 

The October rains have hit.  When I went to let Bogie out this morning and he saw the deluge outside, he glanced at me over his shoulder and seemed say, “You’ve got to be kidding if you want me to go out in that!”  It took a bit of less-than-subtle persuasion to convince my puppy to do his business in the rain.  Still, this is a lovely time of the year,  and I’m just happy to be able to come into my office and write again.  Life is good.

I’m back in the office half days this week.  I had to get out of the house and away from the cooking channel, which had taken over my life.  That channel is addictive!  Now I understand why my mother enjoyed it so much.  I’m in love with Tyler Florence and Bobby Flay and feel like Rachael Ray and Paula Deen could be my best friends.  Even worse, I think I’m gaining weight, but then, it’s difficult to tell.  I’m sure the new knee is much heavier than the original, old, worn out one, right?  Right? 

I have exciting news!  My ten-year-old granddaughter, Bailey, has recently been elected school president.  Her campaign slogan was VOTE FOR BAILEY, SHE’S CRAZY.  Hmmm.  Wayne and I can’t help being proud.  The kid is a born leader.  

As for me, my new knee and I are progressing beautifully.  I climbed a flight of stairs this week.  However, I haven’t learned how to descend said stairs, which leads to a bit of a problem.  “Oh, Wayne, are you doing anything important?” kind of situation.  Thankfully, I’m blessed with a wonderful husband who willingly takes me by the hand and leads me down the stairs one small step at a time.  

Have a great weekend.  We've having gorgeous fall weather in Port Orchard--cold nights and sunny days and the trees are turning colors already.

I remember hearing the man at the circus shout out, "She walks, she talks, she crawls on her belly like a reptile."  Last night I had a breakthrough following my knee replacement surgery.  In the middle of the night I was able to roll onto my belly.  For the last two weeks I had to sleep on my back or my side.  I prefer to sleep on my belly, so this was pure heaven to me.  

I'm still home, but hope to return to the office next week, if possible.  I've been watching the cooking channel, taking long afternoon naps, and knitting up a storm in-between the physical therapy, but oh, how I long to get back to my real life.  I can't help but think flipping onto my belly is a start in  that direction!
 

My precious 99-year old aunt Betty Stierwalt wrote me before I went in for knee replacement surgery.  Actually, her sore left leg wrote my damaged right knee a letter filled with encouragement and advice.  She insists that she's going to live until she dies.  That, my friends, is profound advice. 

I'm getting around better now and my energy level is picking up, so today my right knee is writing her left leg back.  As you can tell, I come from an inventive and fun family.

Thank you for all your notes of encouragement and advice, too.  It is comforting to know that I'm one of many and that I will come out of this stronger!

I’m home from the hospital and taking it easy, letting other people wait on me.  I could get used to this!  Even Wayne has been very solicitous.  Bogie doesn’t seem to care; he just wants to play and can’t understand why I’m not playing with him. 

I’m having my first physical therapy visit today, so I'll probably be tired after that.  All in all, I’m sure the pain will be worth it in the long run.

Thank you for all your good wishes on my recovery.  It means the world to me!