My Sunday Post is almost a Monday post.

In fact, I’m trying to talk myself out of posting at all.  But I will not listen to that voice any more.

Last Thursday we made another two-hour trip to the dentist.  Three trips in three weeks.  But this time, since Doug wasn’t under the influence of pain killers or bleeding profusely, he drove.  So we got there faster.

To me, speed signs are the law.

To him, speed signs are merely a suggestion.

When he spotted a copper and cream Cougar on the road, we went even faster.  Because, you know, he had to check it out.  So I grabbed a couple of pictures for him to drool over later.

But it was all good.  Stitches out.  Healing well.  And we got to have lunch with youngest son who works near there.

We took the back way home… up and over Chehalem Mountain.  It’s not a big mountain, but it is a pretty mountain.  And on the other side, it dropped us into Newberg, where we lived for 22-ish years.

It surprised me, but I got a little choked up as we drove through.  We were only there to close out an account and stop at a store, but suddenly I was overcome with emotion and memories.  Young sons growing up, football games, wrestling tournaments, family visits, parades, church events, weddings, trips to the hospital emergency room and chats with the school principal.  (You do a lot of the last two when you raise boys.)

And this youngest son we’d just lunched with, lives there still.  With his childhood sweetheart and their three children.  The family saga continues.

It’s been four years since we lived in that town, but I guess we never officially parted ways.  For a long time I thought we’d be back.

But we haven’t.

It looks unlikely.

So it kind of felt like a sweet good-bye.  And the memories were a gift I get to keep.

For some odd reason, I’ve been full of energy since that day.  My list of unfinished projects has loomed large for too long.  I decided to knock them off one at a time.

For example, it’s been over a year since I painted our bedroom… partially.  Well, almost completely, except for about one fifth.  Paint ran out, along with my will to continue.

But as of Friday, the tired pinky color is gone.  It is now 100% Woodlawn Colonial Gray.  I like it.  My husband is happy.  And that’s always a good thing.

And in the kitchen, peeling wallpaper has bugged me forever.  So it’s outta here and in its place is Farm Green.

My budget is set for August.  Calendar is filling up.  We’ve been eating cucumbers from the garden.

Those irritating unknowns are floating about like they always do.  But I’m just not going to worry.

I am blessed beyond measure.  I’m thankful for another day and another chance to finish.

And that includes this post.