Veggie garden preparations continued this week. Miss G's dad loaned us his power rototiller (this is a good example of why it's important to maintain an amicable separation), and some buddy of Dan's offered us as much free manure as we can haul away. I guess the guy somehow ended up with a dumptruckload full of manure; no one seems to be able to tell us the whole story. Our neighbors on the left offered us the use of their truck to haul the manure, in exchange for us promising to plant an apple tree that can be cross-pollinated with theirs. Very fair trade. And our neighbor across the street offered the use of his truck to haul off the dead brush from our yard-clearing. Oh, and-- the Good Neighbor Fairy left several small potted plants sitting out on our newly tilled front yard. Not sure what they are, since they're not marked, but it's very friendly nevertheless.
One of the hardest things for me about leaving my hometown was losing the sense of community that is so ingrained there. People move to small towns specifically to become parts of a neighborhood, to be involved in city happenings and preserve the small-town way of life that's the very reason they make homes there. I've had bits of support here and there in other places, but nothing like back home. Until now. And we could really use the encouragement these days.
I've never really liked living in Vegas. I moved here for a specific job, thinking that if I loved the work I was doing it wouldn't matter where I lived. Turns out that loving where I lived and not liking my job was the better way to go. Now that the job I came here for is gone, I'm stuck living in a place that makes me grouchy, with few redeeming qualities. Mind you, living in Boulder City is much better than living in Vegas proper-- but it's expensive to live here, our mortgage is probably 3x what it would be in a normal city, and this is definitely a concern now that our income has become dangerously spotty. With construction work dried up, and Dan's daughter moving away with her mom at the end of the summer, we don't have a reason to stay here. But-- Miss G is so happy that I hate to move her again. Plus, with the current market, there's no way we could sell our house (even if it were sellable, which it's definitely not in its current partially-fixed-up state). I've been feeling so frustrated at having to stay here, but this sudden emergence of neighborly support and general friendliness is easing my mind considerably.
We're going to try to stick it out here for the next 6 years, till Miss G is done with highschool. During that time, I'm going to learn how to reap a harvest in the middle of the desert.