skysthelimit":1dlgvaik said:
There seem to be a lot of people on this board that live in the country, on farms, near rural areas, in milder climates, but that is not what's happening in most of the country.
I really empathize with your situation. It wasn't until about a year ago that I got to move out of a situation that was exactly as you describe. Houses packed together like sardines in a can. I looked out any of my windows, and right into a neighbor's window, they were that close. People all up in each others' business, etc. It got to the point where the last five years I lived there, I didn't even go out into the yard, because I knew someone with nothing better to do was watching. It made me ... uncomfortable to be watched like that. I hate that about the city. Zero privacy. It's been a long, hard road to get where I am right now, on my little farm out in the wilds of Montana, but that's all the more reason for me to never take it for granted. For the last nine months, I've been living in a giant apartment complex full of college kids, with no animals other than dogs or cats allowed. But I hung on, and knowing that it would eventually end, and that kept me going. About three months ago, my dream came true when we bought this place. Now it's a whole different set of problems - previous owners ruined relationships with neighbors over communal fences, property taxes sky high, taking care of all that land, crappy internet, crazy expensive propane is only option for heat, etc.
I've been there, paying almost thirty bucks a bag for rabbit feed, and even then they had to special order it in for me. I never had any room to store hay, so I was buying a bale at a time of whatever I could get my hands on. I'm so, SO grateful that I live a few miles away from IMO one of the best rabbit feed producers out there. Hay is still crazy this time of year, but I bought before it got too bad. Heck, it's so bad out there that I hear stories all the time of hay being
stolen. I bought enough so that if someone should come to me and need a bale or two, I can gladly give it.
I guess what I'm trying to say, in my roundabout and rambling way, is to not give up hope. You never know what's around the corner.