|Scout knows best.|
You know all that stuff they say about greener pastures? The grass is always greener on the other side and once you get to the other side it will still be greener on the other side, meaning where you just were/some other pasture over another fence? Yeah. That.
You know that song that goes, "Love the one you're with"? Same goes for places. Love the place you're at. Love the place where you are. Love--whatever's grammatically correct.
The Simpsons have lived in the same town, the same house, and even the same age bracket for over twenty years. What's good enough for the Simpsons seems good enough for me.
Moving is a pain.
Is there a crocodile chewing on your legs or a rhino running straight for you? No? Then what are you complaining about?
You will, wherever you go, have bad neighbors. They could be slightly less bad than the ones you have here, but they could be infinitely worse. So why risk it?
Things are inevitably lost during moves. Often it's something trivial, like the t-shirt you always wore to bed because it was comfy, but which has no sentimental value, but sometimes it's your grandmother's costume jewelry or your wedding album. It's a gamble.
You see that oasis in the distance? It's probably a mirage.
Sure, rolling stones gather no moss (they actually proved that on Mythbusters), but who's to say moss is a bad thing? It's soft and squishy, a pretty color. Maybe mossy rocks are happy rocks. Did you ever think of that?