My head is spinning. In the last couple of weeks I've been in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania; Nashville, Tennessee; Atlanta, Georgia; home again, and then off to my 40th (yikes!) class reunion in Yakima, Washington. I'm home for the next couple of days before leaving for Wayne's family get together and then I leave for Australia and New Zealand for a month. And some people wonder why I don't write faster. Now you know!

So many exciting things are happening in my career. I promise you updates later . . . and for those of you holding your breath until September and the release of 6 RAINIER DRIVE, it should be on the shelves the end of August. My author copies have arrived, and the book looks great. In my opinion, this is the strongest one of all six in the series so far.

I received a copy of a wonderful newspaper article dated September 2, 1915 from my cousin Shirley while I was on the road. She found it and sent it to me because it mentions our grandfather's name, Anton Adler, from Ipswich, SD. I want to quote it in part: So long as Ipswich is leading in the substantial things of life, it might not come amiss to tell the world the fact that there are mighty few towns with a population of some 700 souls that can boast of 100 automobiles. Lest some may believe this untrue, we are furnishing the owners' names below. Then there was our grandfather's name. What can I say? We were one of the first in our neighborhood to get a microwave, too.

Just a quick note to let everyone know that I'm alive and well. Last week I was in King of Prussia, Pennsylvania attending the Knit and Crochet conference. What a fabulous event! I was able to stuff all the yarn I bought into my suitcase, although it takes two men to lift.

I’m currently in Nashville, Tennessee. I recently sold a non-fiction book, and I’m meeting with the publisher. I’ll give everybody details as soon as I have them. Tonight I'm attending the Grand Ole Opry—what a treat that will be!

After so much traveling I’m eager to get home and sleep in my own bed and dream about all the sweaters I’m about to knit.

The joyous, happy sounds you hear in the background are from me. I'm mailing off BACK ON BLOSSOM STREET to my editor this afternoon. Yes, stage one of the book is finished, and stage two is about to take place. That's when Paula reads it with a critical eye and sends me the revision letter. I know I've mentioned how much I treasure working with Paula, who was named Editor of the Year by PASIC—a writers' organization—a couple of years ago. Stage three is when I do the revisions and mail the entire manuscript back to her. Stage four is the editing process. Stage five is when I read the edited version and then stage six when the page proofs arrive and the book needs to be read and carefully gone through again. Okay, there's lots of work still ahead, but the most important stage—stage one—is finished. Yippee!!!

I'm experiencing this sense of euphoria. BACK ON BLOSSOM STREET is finished. I need to edit it yet and put on the final polish before I mail it off to my erstwhile editor, Paula. I'm so pleased with how well the book has turned out, but will hold my breath until I hear Paula's opinion. That, however, didn't stop me from telling her I thought the story was absolutely brilliant. Paula and I have been working together for 21 years, which is almost unheard of in the publishing world. We sort of grew up together. I like to tell people we're like Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan, only we haven't figured out who is who.

I got ambitious this weekend and cleaned out my mother's hope chest, which she'd given me many years ago. For the last thirty years I've stuck letters, my old journals, prayers, clippings, and significant newspapers in there with no real organizational reasoning. I decided it was long past time to sort through the chest, which I did.

There are nearly 30 years of journals there, so I randomly opened each one and read a single day from each year. Oh, my goodness, it was shocking. First off, I didn't remember the trauma of raising four teenagers at the same time. It's amazing Wayne and I survived—amazing that our children have all turned into responsible adults. There is hope for all of you out there dealing with teenagers and their problems. Mostly, these journals are a testament to God's faithfulness and the fact that He does answer prayer.