My February e-newsletter is out, and it seems a number of you can identify with my struggles trying to look cool while riding in—and climbing in and out of—Wayne's new sports car. Thank you for the advice and suggestions, some of which I am definitely going to try.

Last Sunday was bad. Wayne insisted on driving to church in his NSX–I'm not sure what that stands for, but I have a feeling it's what the first woman said when she tried to climb out of the car while wearing pantyhose. Okay, back to my story. Wayne drove the car to church, and because it was raining he thoughtfully dropped me off in front of the building. Because we were right on time, everyone was heading into the building. I opened the door, swung out my legs in a ladylike fashion and froze. I had my purse in one hand and my Bible in the other and nothing to use for leverage to get myself upright. I nearly toppled headfirst onto the pavement. There's got to be a better way.

Our friends, the McKeons, will arrive later today for a visit. (BACK ON BLOSSOM STREET is dedicated to them!) Wayne and Bob always get nervous when Joan and I are together. The reason you ask? We're both yarnaholics. Joan's stash rivals my own.

Later this afternoon we're headed for Tangled Threads, a nearby yarn store. Okay, it's over an hour away, but it wouldn't matter if the closest store was on the moon—Joan and I would find a way to get there. We both come alive when we're around yarn. Wayne says I'm like Midas with his gold whenever I'm in my yarn room. I hold it and caress it and close my eyes while I dream about which project would be best for this particular yarn. See what I mean? I've got it bad.

I am appreciating my husband more and more these days, especially after this morning's trek to the post office. I had to mail back the edited manuscript for WHERE ANGLES GO, my October gift hardcover. My editor was eager for me to read and approve the changes, which I did.

When I'm in Port Orchard, my office staff handles this kind of errand for me. In Florida it's generally Wayne. He makes a darn cute Administrative Assistant. This morning, however, he had other things to do, so I thought I'd make a quick run to the post office. That, my friends, is an oxymoron. It took almost two hours. Okay, to be fair, not the entire time was spent at the post office. I needed a few items at the grocery store and dropped by there, too. Still—two hours! Yup, I appreciate my husband more and more every day.

I'm so into "American Idol." For the last two nights I've been glued to the television as those young men and women sing their hearts out. The appeal for me isn't really their talent. What touches my heart is their desire. It invigorates me to see someone pursue their dreams. I believe it stirs something awake in each one of us. The contestants inspire and motivate us, encourage and compel us all to reach for more for ourselves and for others. I even like Simon—yes, Simon. He might be harsh, but generally he's right on.

I have an appointment with the dentist this afternoon. I never thought I'd be grateful to see the dentist, but I can hardly wait. While chewing on a caramel I lost the crown off of one of my lower molars. That lovely piece of candy sucked the tooth right off. This is what I get for giving into temptation in the first place. Trust me, it will be a long time before I eat any confection that doesn't melt in my mouth first.

I was in San Francisco over the Presidents Weekend holiday for a writers' conference. I didn't know it when I agreed to this conference that it coincided with the Chinese New Year. The hotel was a short three blocks from Chinatown and Grant Avenue. Three incredibly steep hills, I should add.

In case you didn't know, this is the Year of the Pig. From what I learned this weekend, pigs are independent creatures with strong wills. If I didn't know better, I'd say that sounds a great deal like my husband. At the luncheon on Sunday we were each given a decorated envelope with a gold coin tucked inside, which is apparently a Chinese New Year custom. I know I'm going to have an incredibly good year. When I opened my envelope, I discovered my gold coin was made of chocolate.

Did I mention that Wayne recently purchased a sports car? Before I left for Port Orchard we took a drive down to Key Largo. My husband had to give me lessons on how to act cool: #1 No knitting. Apparently having me knit made him look bad in his super cool car. #2 When people look at us, I was not to wave. I'm sure I have many more lessons to learn. Just remember, when you see me, you see cool.

Happy Valentine's Day. I'm separated from my Valentine, as Wayne is in Florida while I'm in Port Orchard. We spoke early this morning and blew one another Valentine kisses.

This has never been one of Wayne's favorite holidays. He fears men all across America are looking to him as an example of a romantic husband. My precious husband possesses a number of very fine qualities, but romance isn't one of them. What's most important is that I know he loves me. I couldn't ask for a better Valentine than that.

Wayne and I had an incredible weekend in Key Largo. I met the artist Wyland and hope to have pictures up on my site shortly. Ladies, this artist has the bluest eyes I've ever seen. He's drop-dead gorgeous and a sweetheart, to boot. Wayne and I took a romantic sunset sail, gazed up at the stars, and fell in love all over again. It almost makes up for the fact that we'll be apart on Valentine's Day.

One of life's great mysteries was revealed to me yesterday. I was reading a book by Joyce Meyers that stated that women speak an average of 20,000 to 30,000 words a day. A man only speaks between 10,000 and 15,000. I happened to mention this to Wayne. He regarded me blankly. "I'm sorry, Honey, what did you say?" So I repeated it.

Then it came to me–like a bolt of lightening–the reason women speak twice as many words as men: We have to repeat everything to our husbands!