I had a wonderful weekend with my grandchildren Jazmine and James, and Dewey. The kids and I dipped half-frozen bananas in melted chocolate and decorated them with inventive toppings. (I got this idea from a Rachael Ray 30 Minute Meals show.) Dewey thought he should be able to help–we had a difficult time convincing him that he's a dog. When we put him outside, he stood on his hind legs and peeked in the window with the most pitiful look.

My weekend was mostly kids and the dog; all in all, other than a couple of accidents, it was a grand time. It's back to work now on THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT CHRISTMAS, which will go to my editor this week.

My daughter, Jenny, her husband, and the three little ones came for dinner last night. The two older grandkids wanted me to tell them a story about their mom when she was a little girl. I had plenty to tell—like the time my five-year-old daughter decided to play postmistress on her way home from school. Jenny and her friend emptied the mailboxes of two or three dozen homes as they innocently strolled home. Wayne and I nearly suffered dual heart attacks when we unearthed several Social Security checks in her stash. Ah the memories! . . .

Dewey and I attended dog obedience school yesterday. I can now sit and lie down, and I know my name. Dewey does, too, . . . most of the time. It was a wonderful experience, which will probably result in a dog handler being in one of my upcoming books. (All I need now is the story!) This dog training is fun. I wonder if the same techniques will work on husbands. Unfortunately, Wayne is back in Florida. That's all right – by the time he gets back I'll have my training skills honed.

As you probably already know, I take Wednesdays off from writing. It's the day I go out to lunch, run errands, schedule appointments, and generally try to catch up with everything stacked on my desk. You'd find it hard to believe how many non-writing demands drain a writer's time. This Wednesday is fairly typical of what this middle-of-the-week day is like for me.

This morning, I'm doing the last of the text for my annual newsletter. Then I'm writing my Internet letters, of which I write three each month. The first one I write is to all of you. Then another for the Webmaster for her newsletter to her site's readers, and the last one I pen is a welcome letter for my own website. Then there are the personal letters I write to family, friends, and business associates. Among the personal letters will be one to my Aunt Betty, who is 94 years old. She recently fell and broke her hip, and needs extra attention.

This noon I'm having lunch with Mary, who writes a regular column in the local Port Orchard Independent. In THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT CHRISTMAS, my heroine is a newspaper journalist. Mary's going to help me with the articles my heroine writes about the fruitcake finalists. From Bremerton, where I'm meeting Mary, I'll stop off and spend time with Mom, who's making wonderful progress. She looks forward to my daily visits. I thought I'd curl her hair this afternoon. Then at three, Dewey (our new puppy) and I are going to dog obedience classes. I'll catch up with you tomorrow.

I had a wonderful weekend, and hope you did, too. Because I'm so far behind on my writing schedule, I came down to the office on Saturday. I had trouble getting my key to work in the door lock, which I considered an omen. To me, this was a clear message God didn't want me to waste the morning away writing when the sun was shining. So I went to visit my mom instead.

She's out of the hospital and back in the memory care facility. We had a great visit. Because I didn't write on Saturday, I was back in the office on Monday. If all goes well I should be finished with this book on Friday. Hip, hip, hurray! (That cheering came from my editor.) Have a great day.

I had a brilliant idea while swimming this morning. Some of my best ideas come while I've got my head buried in chlorinated water.

In the Christmas book I'm writing, the heroine (Emma) is interviewing national fruitcake recipe finalists. Here's my thought . . . what if I was able to get some of the top chefs in America to give me their views on fruitcake? It seems everyone's got an opinion on fruitcake. I actually have a connection with Wolfgang Puck and have met him twice. Rachel Ray of Thirty Minute Meals fame is a Saturday morning must for me. (I know she's on every day but, I only watch once a week.) At any rate, I'm swimming with the idea—pun intended. If you have a connection to a high-placed chef, let me know via my guestbook!

Thirty-five years ago this morning Jody Rose Macomber entered Wayne's and my life. It's hard to believe that tiny baby girl—actually she wasn't so tiny at eight pounds, three ounces and nineteen inches—is a wife and mother of her now. I'd been working at an insurance company until a few weeks before Jody's birth, and I never went back. My mother came to spend a week with her first grandchild, and the bond between those two remains strong to this day. Mom calls Jody her “Rainbow," because when my Dad came to pick her up, a big rainbow appeared. Happy Birthday, Jody Roses. Mom and Dad love you bunches and bunches.

Good news! If you heard shouts of joy yesterday afternoon, that was me! My mom is out of the hospital. She's weak and pale but well on the road to recovery. Praise the Lord. I want to thank you, one and all, for your prayers and kind messages regarding Mom's health struggles.

On an entirely different note, today I'm hosting my annual Bookseller Valentine Lunch, which includes local booksellers and the head librarian of our local Port Orchard branch. This lunch is one of the highlights of my year. First of all, I do this to let the booksellers in my hometown know how much I appreciate their enthusiastic support of my books. There's another reason, too. Booksellers and librarians are a font of information about what readers are buying and saying about the books they read. So while I'm serving up a three-course lunch, I'm asking questions and learning. Some of my best promotional ideas have come from these savvy business women and I feel deeply indebted to each one.

In my February e-newsletter I told the story of my loving husband who gave me a pocket knife for Valentine's Day one year. The problem, you see, is that Wayne lives in fear of a holiday for romantics. He's afraid men all across America are looking to him to set an example, and he freezes up.

From the number of reader responses I got, my guess is that Wayne isn't alone. Here's a short list of what some of my readers received from their sweethearts: an onion chopper, white mice, a knife sharpener, a leather man tool (I'm not even sure what that is) and my favorite . . . drum roll please. . . a dozen roses sent by her ex-husband COD. With the exception of the last mention, virtually all of these readers had long-standing marriages or were still married. You've got to love these guys!

Happy Valentine's Day, my friends! Wayne and I had a wonderful weekend–we got a dog! Our beloved Peterkins died two years ago at age 17. We’ve finally reached the point where we decided it was time to get another dog. Wayne and I agreed we didn't want to deal with a puppy. We felt another small dog would be best, a mixed breed, and one that would sit on my husband's lap like Peterkins did. So, with two of the grandkids in tow, we went to the Humane Society.

The truth is, we didn't choose Dewey; Dewey chose us. He's a German Shepherd/Collie mix and will weigh about 75 pounds when fully grown. Yes, he's a puppy about thirteen weeks old. Wayne named him Dewey after the Admiral in recognition that we live in a Navy town. We didn't find the dog we thought we wanted and perhaps that's for the best.