Moving is a crapshoot. You never know what kind of neighbors you’ll end up with.
In our first house together in Royal Oak, MI we had good neighbors.
On one side was an elderly woman, and on the other side we had an older couple. They basically left us alone, and were kind when we talked to them.
Unfortunately after a year or so, both neighbors on either side of us welcomed their grandsons into the house with them. And unfortunately it seemed that each of these grandsons were into some super shady stuff.
One was happy to talk about his meth addiction with me while jumping our fence to attempt to pet my terrified barking dog. The other may or may not have been a drug dealer. We lived sandwiched in between these two.
Still not sure if they knew each other or “worked together”, but after seeing police with search dogs go through our yard one night, and having to call the police on numerous occasions to report suspicious behavior – like small plastic bags filled with white powder, and watching one of them grab something they had stashed in our garbage can the night before – we had had enough.
When we moved to Raleigh, NC we were grateful to have better neighbors. Much better.
We borrowed tools and lawn mowers from each other. We watched each other’s houses when we were on vacation; watering the gardens, grabbing mail, and bringing each other small gifts from our travels. We swapped produce over the fence, trading figs for cucumbers. And when we had our son, one of our neighbors helped us out more than we could have ever dreamed of – cooking us food and watching our dogs for us.
These were truly great people.
Maybe it’s the Southern Hospitality thing, I’m not sure, but we absolutely loved our neighbors in Raleigh. We felt like we had hit the jackpot with these amazing people. No problems ever, and we looked out for each other.
When we decided to move to a rural part of Eastern Tennessee, we had no idea what we’d find in terms of our neighbors. But boy have we been pleasantly surprised.
We have the best neighbors!
Taking care of your community is sewn into the hearts of each person that lives here. They truly embody what it is to love your neighbor.
We have a neighbor who has easily spent an entire week helping us grade and gravel the driveway, install an electrical pole, and carve out an area for our barn. This man has worked tirelessly, in the intense heat of the summer, to get us power so we could be more comfortable. Not only has he not asked for a thing in return, I basically had to force him to accept homemade banana bread as a small gift of gratitude.
Another neighbor invited us to a Father’s Day party where we were fed homemade ice cream and introduced to more of the neighbors that lived nearby.
A church down the road has offered us free access to their showers and outdoor kitchen area for us to use as we need. We’ve happily accepted.
Another neighbor, a sheriff in a county over, has helped Dustin learn to work the skid steer, given him advice for protecting the homestead, offered up his shower, and invited us over for iced tea and foosball, something we are all looking forward to.
A couple renting the house across the street brought over canned beets and apple butter straight from their cellar.
Another neighbor across the street weed wacks around our mailbox when he cuts his own grass.
Then there are the numerous neighbors who offer to hay our fields for us – free of cost, something we desperately need help with right now.
This doesn’t even account for the dozens of people who have stopped by in the few short months we have been here to introduce themselves and offer help if we need it. “Truly if you need anything, just ask,” they all say.
This is the community we have been dreaming of and praying for. A group of people who truly want to help each other out, give freely, and trade what they have.
We have never felt so welcomed. To say we feel blessed to have landed here, in the middle of this county community, is an understatement.