Merry Christmas! Today is the last day my office will be open before Christmas. Renate, who's been with me for over ten years, Wanda and Virginia, Jody and I, are all going to lunch to celebrate Christmas and having survived another exciting year of working together.

Christmas Eve Wayne and I will have dinner with my mother and our two oldest daughters, and then we’re off to church services. Bright and early Christmas morning we'll be with our two sons. From there Wayne and I will leave for our winter home in Florida.

I want to give you a head's up. I won't be blogging while we're on the road. Expect to hear back from me on either January 3rd or the 4th. I'm sure I'll have adventures to report. It sounds a bit crazy to drive the 3,323 miles between our two homes each year, especially in the middle of winter, but we love it. I knit while Wayne drives and we listen to books on tape. Over the last four years, we've had more than our share of excitement so I should have lots to report.

I want to take this opportunity to thank each of you, my loyal readers, for your continued support of me and my books. I often tell people I have the most wonderful fans in the world, and it's true. Merry Christmas one and all, and God's richest blessing upon you and yours.

Ho! Ho! Ho! Christmas is upon us here at the office. I wish you could see the card and mailing frenzy taking place here. I expect today is the very last day to guarantee delivery before Christmas.

On an exciting note, 50 HARBOR STREET went off to my editor yesterday afternoon. (Is that cheering I hear in the background?) I lifted my head, gasped to see it was so close to Christmas, and immediately took a half-day off to spend with two of my grandchildren. One does have priorities!

Today my cousin Shirley Adler is stopping by to visit Mom and me. Shirley is the former nun who inspired my book CHANGING HABITS. It was at Shirley's birthday party several years back, when I was laughing and joking with her friends, that I realized I was the only woman there who'd never been a nun! I found their talk of convent life utterly fascinating and, as they say, the rest is history.

We three girls have an agenda this afternoon. We're going to visit, do lunch and tour the town. I'm giving Mom as much love and attention as I can this last week before Christmas because Wayne and I are leaving for our winter home in Florida on Christmas Day. My desk is almost clear and it's a good feeling to have mailed off my manuscript. Now I can really enjoy the holidays.

I wish you had been here about three o'clock yesterday afternoon. I came skipping down the stairs singing, "Hi ho, hi ho, the book is done; the book is done." That, my friends, is a sight to behold. But while the book is written, I still need to read through it, do a final edit and ship it off to my hardworking editor, Paula Eykelhof. I'll need to work on Saturday, but hopefully by Monday the book will be ready to run off and mail. That means I can start enjoying the holiday season without a late deadline looming over my head.

On Sunday the entire family is getting together for our annual Progressive Family Dinner. Jenny is doing salads, Dale has soup, I'm doing the main course, which is Snow on the Mountain (recipe included), and Jody is supplying the desserts. Because Ted lives 45 minutes away, and the 18th is his and Lana's wedding anniversary, they're getting a free ride this year. Does that sound like fun or what? Have a fabulous weekend yourself.

RECIPE FOR SNOW ON THE MOUNTAIN

Line up the eleven dishes in the order below. Pile the ingredients on your plate, starting with step one (the rice), and build a mountain. Then dig in and enjoy!

1. Six to eight cups cooked rice
2. Chicken in gravy. (I usually stew a chicken, take the meat off the bone, and use the broth for making the gravy.)
3. 4 sliced tomatoes
4. 2 cups chopped raw onions
5. 11 oz crispy Chow Mein noodles
6. 1 cup sliced celery
7. 7 oz sliced green olives (or black if preferred)
8. 12 oz shredded cheddar cheese
9. 1 lb can crushed pineapple
10. 1 cup sliced almonds
11. 1 small package coconut

My life certainly does get exciting. Wednesday is appointment day: I had an early morning, routine eye appointment, and Mom had two—one with a dentist and another with her regular physician. Then, in the afternoon, Mom had invited ten of her friends to my house for a Christmas Tea.

My day was scheduled like clockwork. Only my routine eye exam turned out to be anything but . . . my doctor found a problem that would eventually lead to a detached retina. Before I knew it, I was scheduled for laser surgery that afternoon. Instead of taking Mom to lunch, Wayne drove me back into Silverdale, where I had the laser treatment. FYI – if anyone ever tells you laser surgery doesn't hurt, then my guess is they haven't had the same type of treatment I did. Halfway through, I started yelling, "I'll talk, I'll talk!"

At any rate, I was home at 2:30 p.m., and Mom and her guests arrived at three. My eyeball felt twice its normal size, but, of course, it wasn't. The tea went off without a hitch, and today I'm back at my desk to write the final chapters of 50 HARBOR STREET. If you're thinking that Debbie Macomber is quite a woman, then all I need do is remind you it's the middle of December and I don’t have time to slack off. Enough said.

I think I'm undergoing some sort of Christmas meltdown. Yesterday my five year-old-granddaughter's pre-school class was performing at the Silverdale Mall. My daughter told me the program started at 10; I heard her say 10, and yet I left at 9:45 a.m. instead of 9:15 a.m. Thankfully I did make it in time to hear the majority of Maddy's concert. Still I wonder, what was I thinking? (This is a question Wayne has been asking me for years.)

Over the weekend my daughters and I put on a Mother-Daughter Open House for our family and friends. Each one invited has touched our lives in a positive way. Sharing the joy of the season with each one is our way of saying thank you. This was on top of the Saturday night progressive dinner, which is an annual event I do with the ladies in my Thursday morning Breakfast Club.

I'll check in with you on Thursday. On Wednesday I'm taking Mom to two doctor appointments. She's such a social butterfly; she’ll be the darling of the doctors’ offices!

Today I'm going shopping with my daughter, Jenny, who's a stay-at-home Mom. I take special time with each of my children during the holiday season to shop with them and buy gifts for their families. We always have a wonderful time.

I might have already mentioned that our home has four decorated trees. Big ones. There's one in the library (den), the biggest and tallest is in the foyer, one in the formal dining room, and another in the kitchen. It all sounds a bit decadent, doesn't it? There are four trees because I have four children. This way, when the grandchildren come to visit, they know exactly which tree is their family's and they race to it and start rooting though the packages.

Jenny and I will start at the mall, migrate to Costco, and finish off by having dinner together, laughing and talking. I can't think of a better way to spend my afternoon. Have a wonderful weekend, and I'll check in with you on Monday.

I wrote my Christmas letter to family and friends last week. I've been writing one since the kids were little. It was from my annual letters that I received my first encouragement as a writer. Family and friends started telling me "Gee, you ought to be a writer. You're so funny."

The amazing thing is that it wasn't me who was so humorous – it was the kids. Five-year-old Dale was the one who perfectly quoted his Bible verse for the church Christmas program and then forgot the reference. When I prompted him by mouthing Luke, Dale hesitated a moment and then with wide-eyed enthusiasm shouted out, Luke Skywalker! Right there in church we learned of an entirely new gospel. Ironically, that little anecdote was the first piece of writing I sold for the grand sum of $5.00.

So you see, I owe my entire writing career to the antics of my children . . . and all those Christmas letters tucked inside our cards.

This afternoon is the first of my Christmas Teas. This one is for my swimming friends. For the last fifteen years I've been driving down to the high school pool four mornings a week to swim my thirty-six laps. (That's a half-mile, which is a whole lot farther in the water than it is on dry land.) Some of my dearest friends are those I meet each morning at the pool. We gather in the pool foyer—the men on one side and the women on the other—the same as we did in junior high.

A few years ago I decided it was time we all got to know one another with clothes on. About twenty of us will gather in my living room, sip tea, and spread the joy of the season.

I've loved swimming since I was a kid. It's my favorite form of exercise, but I have to tell you, my children live in mortal fear that a photograph of me in my Speedo with cap and goggles is going to turn up on the cover of a supermarket tabloid. I should be so lucky!

Wayne and I are loyal, true-blue, Seahawk football fans. We've been season ticket holders since the second year of the franchise. My husband and I bond over football. When the Seahawks built their new stadium, we went for the big bucks and got luxury seats. I haven't quite figured out where the luxury comes in, because the seats are outside in the cold and don't look any different than any other seats. Okay, there are a bunch of fancy restaurants on that level. The powers that be decided that those of us in luxury seats would prefer prime rib over popcorn, which means I have to hoof it down a level to get my popcorn.

As it happens, the Seahawks play on national television tonight. Go Seahawks! (Kindly forgive my enthusiasm if you're a Dallas Cowboys fan.) Sadly, because I'm so late on my deadline, we gave the tickets to tonight's game to our youngest son, Dale, with one stipulation. He has to take his wife, Laurie. Wayne and I felt that other women in the family should have this wonderful bonding experience, too. Have fun, Laurie, and be sure to bring your gloves and hat.