Yesterday evening, Nathan and I signed our names or initials on page after page of legalese-filled documents. We will now be moving to Davis County as we purchased our first house together, up the hill in Bountiful.
Growing up in Salt Lake, I was definitely an east bench girl. Who wouldn’t love the streets lined with trees, the unique homes, the neighborhood shops, the little park around the corner? I knew the mailman, Floyd, and he knew our cars, waving to us when we passed him on another street. I could sketch up my immediate neighborhood and label which homes I would deliver a copy of the Deseret News to from the newspaper bag around my bike handle bars, each afternoon. I walked those streets as a high school kid when I couldn’t sleep: wandering around in my pajamas around midnight, the cat following behind me; I didn’t feel scared.
During my years at East High, Bountiful High was moved down to 4A from 5A and joined our region. They were a threat, this big school with its impressive athletic programs. We were sure that their coaches taught the girls on the soccer team how to scratch and foul opponents and get away with it. Bountiful was the bad guy.
And now, I will be living in the Bountiful High school boundaries. We bought this home with the idea that it’s nice enough and big enough and affordable enough to live there for many years. Dom may one day go to Bountiful High and I will have to leave my East High basketball sweatshirt in storage.
I’m excited, though. We will love this home. We will love the amazing view of the Great Salt Lake from our front porch. We will love the space. I will love having a yard I really get to work in and design and grow. It’s a nice neighborhood that’s quiet and not too far away from the “big” city.
But, we will say goodbye to the home we have been renting for the last year (almost). We will say goodbye to our artesian well, little stream, and patio lights. We will also say goodbye to our garden. We were finally getting eggplants and still waiting for any brussel sprouts to show up. I guess we won’t harvest those. I’ve learned a ton (through the failures, of course) and will have to relearn it all with different soil, sun exposure, etc with this new home. Dom has enjoyed going out to the garden with us, or with his cousin, Campbell, and eating tomatoes right off of the vine.
In a few weeks, we will hopefully be all boxed up and on to our own place. I can’t wait. Anybody want to box everything? We already boxed up the books so that’s at least two dozen boxes.
Goodbye, garden. It’s not you; it’s me.