I moved to Las Vegas after visiting here just 3 times—once on my honeymoon, once 7 years later on vacation, and once 7 months after that to buy a house. I had been off the strip maybe twice, when I was signing paperwork for my own piece of the Mojave, suffice it to say I.knew.nothing.
My husband and I yielded from very small towns a few miles apart, in the geographical center of West Virginia. We are talking less than 2500 people, maybe 10 places to eat, and half of them served up a side of free salmonella.
We got married and moved to a larger small town. We had a good life there, but we needed something new. When the opportunity presented itself to head west, we went. To quote A League of Their Own –
“Honey, nothing ain’t ever going to happen here. You gotta go where things are happening.“
This blog is about trading the WV hills for 5% humidity, Bloody Mary brunches, and 300+ days of sunshine; where every day can feel like a Sunday Funday.