April 30, 2008
We’ve lived in our small Eastern Utah town for just over six months, and already the receptionist at our vet’s office knows my first name the instant I walk in. She even gets in the ballpark on the spelling of my last name, and that’s pretty good, considering. (Could this be a sign that we have too many animals?)
The pharmacist sees me coming and has my order at the cash register before I can even get to the counter to ask. (Maybe we’re buying too many drugs, too.)
Our neighbor brings over a dozen fresh eggs once a week, straight from the overactive hens in their chicken coup. Our neighbors have also been kind about helping us deal with snow during this year’s abundance, and guiding us through the irrigation process. Steve brought Caleb, the neighbors’ 6 year old son, a horny toad we found on our ride. Caleb said, “It’s the cutest horny toad I ever saw!” Steve made lots of positive points there.
Our street doesn’t have a sign, but we identify our location to locals by naming our neighbors and saying we moved into so and so’s old house. Everyone knows everyone else, so that works. Of course, small towns have limited shopping, but the necessities are all available. For instance, we have several irrigation supply stores and places that sell groceries, dog food, horse feed, birdseed, and western wear.
What else does one need, after all?