Upon finishing graduate school, my new husband and I were wide open to all the places we could move. We were young, and the world was our oyster. The big dream was to move to Boston so he could attend a trade school, but the job hunt for me was hitting dead-ends and we were not about to move somewhere without the security of a paycheck. We tried for Oregon, 2,000 miles from home, but again, we wanted the security of employment before we took the plunge, and that security wasn't coming. Then a job appeared in a small town, merely three hours away. We accepted, loaded up a U-haul, and were on our way. For five years we explored and embraced the foothills in which we were planted. Memories are rich even still.
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