~and it's called "sticking together"~

It seems hard to believe that the month of December, this final 31 day stretch in the year of 2015, will soon be over.  I've said it a thousand times.  No, I take that back.  I have said it a gazillion.

Where on earth does all this time go?  

The answer is pretty simple.

It's called "life".

We began this year 800 miles away from where we are now.  The Rocky Mountains of southwestern Colorado were the backdrop of our everyday life.  Mike and I shall end this year in a much different kind of place.  We live on the northern plains of Texas now and it is here that we are putting down our roots for the final segment of our lives.  There is no intention for us to ever have to move again.

For sure.
At least we hope.

I've been looking through all of the photos that I've taken this year and how thankful I am that I took each one of them.  There is a story behind all of them and if the age old adage "every picture is worth a thousand words" is true, then those photos have quite a story to tell.  

They tell of the lives of two kids from "the land of long ago and far, far away".  For the year 2015, we made a lot of memories.  For those precious memories, we do give our thanks.

So here it is in that proverbial "nutshell".
2015

January~We made the journey to Ouray, a quaint mountain community about an hour away from Montrose, to see the ice climbing contest.  Mike and I had first made the trip there in 2013 and found out how fun it was to watch the climbers scaling the ice covered canyon walls.  

February~We headed west towards southern California to attend the memorial services for Mike's dear and sweet step-mom, Maggie.  While we were there we went to the Joshua Tree National Park where I saw the biggest tree I'd ever seen.

March~The Colorado weather was surprisingly nice for that time of year.  We took advantage of it and walked many of the paths that surround the city of Montrose.  It was nice to get out into the fresh air and have a great time together.

April~We made the decision to leave our beautiful surroundings in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado for a new life over 800 miles away on the plains of northern Texas.  Neither of us had a job prospect but we went in the faith that something was waiting for us there to be a part of.  It was time to pack up.

May~The day finally came and with the help of friends who had literally become just like our own family members here, the moving truck was loaded up.  It was tough to say "good-bye".  We were sad to leave everyone behind but anxious to see what the road ahead would have to offer us.  

June, July, and August~We settled in the small community of Burkburnett.  The five-year drought had ended and all that remained of the big flood that brought it to its conclusion were the stories that folks around here told of it.  Mike and Sally soon found a place to take their walks each and every day.  Sunflowers and wildflowers grew along the sides of the road.  It was a beautiful combination and we found ourselves enjoying life in "the land of where you can see forever and ever, AMEN!"

September, October, November~
As fall arrived and then moved towards the start of winter, we realized all of our many blessings.  Mike and I spent one Sunday morning at Lake Arrowhead and saw firsthand the beauty of what happens when 5 long years of a horrible drought comes to a merciful end.  I was able to sell my home back in Hutchinson with the help of a young man who used to call me "teacher".  In November, we set two more places at the table for young airmen from the nearby base.  Both of us gave thanks for finding good jobs that we love doing here.  Mike manages the new hardware store in town and I'm enjoying my 38th year as a teacher in nearby Petrolia.

And now it is December 15th and here we are with absolutely no idea of what lies ahead in the future.  Hey, we don't even know what is in store for us this very day.  Yet the same faith that drove us here now nearly 8 months ago continues to live within us.  The same plan that Mike and I left the mountains with sustains us here today.

We just figure to keep on holding hands tightly.
It's called "sticking together".