The Mad River Barn Will Make You Happy

“Hotels make you happy” said Marianne, as she settled into her bed last weekend at The Inn at the Mad River Barn in Waitsfield, Vermont.  She might be right – at least, in a hotel like this one!DSC02884

The Mad River Barn is under new ownership, and they’ve lovingly restored this old inn, including accessibility in these areas:  guest room (sleeps three) and bath on the first floor, parking, pathways and front entrance, indoor dining area, outdoor patio and restaurant bathroom.DSC02873

The aesthetic is both modern and re-purposed.  The furniture lines are clean and the inn is uncluttered, and yet there is something interesting at every turn, from the old door shellacked and hung as art, to the wall signs made of brightly painted sprockets and the bathroom fixtures made of reclaimed pipe joints.  The interior designer, Joanne Palmisano, has two books in print, Salvage Secrets: Transforming Reclaimed Materials Into Design Concepts and Salvage Secrets Design and Decor, both of which are on sale at the front desk or might be available from your library (the first is available through my library).

DSC02899The halls, although they meet ADA standards, left only a little wiggle room for Marianne’s big electric chair, and I was nervous about marring the freshly-painted wood.  (We left not a trace, I’m happy to say.)   A smaller electric chair or a manual chair wouldn’t have an issue at all.

Breakfast was included in the very reasonable room rate of $140/per night, and I loved it that efforts were made to provide farm-fresh, healthy meal choices.    The inn offers dinner as well, a nice choice for families who want to minimize the number of times they get in and out of the car!  The dinner menu met a variety of diets, from the meat-eaters to half-size portions, kid menus, or filling salads.   Vermont has several breweries in hot demand right now, and Mad River Barn serves up some of the best.

My only regret is that the upstairs lounge area is not accessible, and it looks like a lot of fun  with oversized, cozy-looking chairs, a fireplace, game tables and big screen TV.   This is definitely a family-friendly inn, and I hear that plans are underway to create a dog-friendly abode on the property as well.DSC02919

The Mad River Valley is a great destination:

–  Waitsfield is a good base from which to access the many programs that Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sports has to offer, both summer and winter.

– Fall foliage season is right around the corner and Vermont’s scenic by-ways include lots of leaf-peeping, quaint covered barns, and idyllic-looking sheep and cows grazing serenely.

– Vermont’s Festival of the Arts runs in Mad River Valley from August 1 through Labor Day, and the Valley Arts Foundation took the time to compile a program that clearly delineates which venues are wheelchair friendly (and kid-friendly too!).

– Check out the  Waitsfield Farmer’s Market on the green in Waitsfield on Saturdays, 9 am to 1 pm, mid-May through mid-October.

– We loved the Hen of the Wood restaurant in Waterbury when we dined there a couple of years ago.  The Waterbury restaurant is not accessible but the newly-opened Hen of the Wood in Burlington IS accessible.  The only catch is that the new and accessible restaurant is in Burlington, about an hour away. DSC02926

What FaceBook Needs

George Baletsa of Newbury died suddenly, unexpectedly, on June 24th.  He was 45 years old and has a wife and three children who now start each day without him.  My sister-in-law, his neighbor, is grieving, for she knows the value of a good soul.  She tells me that George was unfailingly kind to her and to her son, who played often at his house with his boys, and she misses him.

Every day someone dies and someone who loves them grieves forever.  There are freak accidents, cruel attacks, devastating medical diagnoses.  The older we get, the more it happens.

Facebook (FB) has been around for a while now, and its users have aged too.  An International Business Times’ study showed that FB users between the ages of 13-24 are leaving or canceling their accounts, while there is an increase in the 30-something and  40-something demographics.  The over-55 age group shows the biggest increase of all.   FB is indeed getting older.

I think the “new” FB users are sharing more nuanced, more personal information than earlier users.  Yes, FB will remain a place to see pictures of your cousins’ children and grandchildren, your friend’s vacation photos, a hilarious YouTube clip.  But increasingly it is becoming a place to document progression of cancer treatments, to mark anniversaries of loss, and to reflect upon the death of someone we love.   How hard it must be to access a social networking site after a loss like that of the Baletsa family.  And yet, FB could be a powerful source of connection and comfort, if there was a way to break out of its current superficial construct.

The “like” option is not enough, my sister-in-law and I decided.  It just feels weird to “like” a painful or soul-bearing statement.   I said, “What FB needs is….” and we declared simultaneously:  an “I hear you” option!

Someone who loved George Baletsa could post: “George died a month ago tomorrow; it is so hard to believe.”

And she could know that she was heard and that she is not alone, with a simple “I hear you” ping.   Words, often, cannot take away the pain, but the simple knowledge that someone bears witness can soothe.

FB:  are you listening?

 

 

What’s The Fuss about Seasons 52?

Dined Monday night at Seasons 52 in Burlington, and I have to say, I don’t see what the buzz is about.

Yes, the flatbread is good.  It’s nice that the menu is seasonal.

It’s also really expensive for otherwise mediocre food.  I ordered the salmon;  I’ve had better;  same for the accompanying corn risotto.  My husband had the steak salad;  four small overcooked pieces of beef on a humongous mound of iceberg lettuce.  I happen to know that I could have had 5 glasses of wine for the price of the one that I had (because I love Mer Soleil and I know how much a bottle costs).   Marianne did give the lemonade two thumbs up, so that’s something.  I felt like I had entered a re-fashioned Red Fish or some other chain restaurant of that ilk, outfitted now for an older crowd with a higher budget.  Maybe it was the pop music playing (which certainly appealed to my 16-year-old), but it was incongruous for a restaurant presumably marketed to the 40+ crowd.

To top it off, it’s faux accessible.  Meaning that for a new restaurant, they’ve crossed some items off the list: accessible entrance, bathroom and some seating areas, ADA-parking spaces nearby.   But the tables are packed so tightly in the main dining room that it is an obstacle course to enter or leave.  (As witnessed by the very pregnant, very lovely woman who had to get back up – after just settling comfortably into her chair – so that Marianne could get by.)  The bar area, off to the right, is not accessible at all;  the tables are either high tops or are set onto platforms (so they are effectively high tops).

Seasons 52 Burlington feels like a mass-marketed chain restaurant with a lackluster, over-priced product and an uncomfortable space for a wheelchair-user.  I think we’ll spend our dining dollars elsewhere next time.

 

 

Anchorage, Alaska Is Surprisingly Accessible

IMG_2887Alaska is the home of the grizzly bear, avid fisher-folk, cruise-ship mavens, hipsters and artists, and the highly-caffeinated. It is not, in general, an easy state for a wheelchair-user to navigate, but Anchorage stands out as an oasis.  (In the summer, that is.)

I prefer big hotel chains for accessibility, because they tend to be more predictable. The downtown Hilton Anchorage was bleh and expensive but accessible. (I do, however, thoroughly applaud the usefulness of their website for wheelchair travelers.  If only all hotel websites were this descriptive!)

I would suggest staying downtown, as the sidewalks are wide, wheelchair-friendly, and there are many well-timed pedestrian walk lights (meaning that you can actually get across the street before a rented Jeep or truck with mounted gun-rack mows you down).

You can easily spend a day or two in Anchorage.  Here’s what I’d suggest:

– drink espresso (Kaladi Brothers is accessible and excellent) but skip Side Street Espresso (terrible latte and so-so egg burritos)
– eat the salted caramel ice cream at Fat Ptarmigan (their pizza establishment next door gets great reviews, and they’ve got locally brewed beer too) IMG_2911
– visit the Anchorage Museum (couldn’t peel my 13-year-old from the interactive science displays, had a fantastic meal at Muse in the museum, appreciated the multi-faceted display on Alaskan culture, was transfixed by the earthquake monitor and tsunami display on the second floor; GREAT exhibit on ocean trash, photo below)IMG_2899
– go on Saturday to the Anchorage Market and Festival (it’s accessible and you can find art, jewelry, crafts, clothing, food and more food).  Loved Octopus Ink‘s clothing and crafts (they have a shop and are represented at the Saturday market too — or you can buy online)
– motor or wheel on the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail (11 miles of views, although check on the status of the bridge before you go; if it’s still out, your trip on pavement will be considerably shorter)IMG_2916
– indulge your inner outdoor-enthusiast and go shopping at 6th Avenue Outfitters

From Anchorage, drive the Seward Highway for some breath-taking views and wheelchair-friendly pull-outs (some even have ADA port-a-potties).  National Geographic published a piece with suggested places to stop on the highway.

DSC_0088Anchorage and its surrounds provide an adventurous day or two (maybe three) if you’re a slow walker or wheelchair-user. Those long daylight hours of summer give you even more time to get around, and the abundance of espresso shops can only help keep you motoring along.

 

Allandale Farm is Boston’s “Green Acres”

Those of us within a certain age bracket will remember Green Acres, the TV sitcom wherein Lisa (Eva Gabor), a glamorous Hungarian socialite, unwillingly relocates from the NY society she loves to a run-down old farm in the country.  Her husband Oliver (Eddie Albert), a successful lawyer, has idealistic dreams of farm life.  Comedy ensues over the attempts of the two to fit into their new surroundings.

I know how Eddie feels.  Sometimes I long for the idyll I am certain exists on the farm.  When I — a life-long city girl — start dreaming out loud about moving to Maine and raising goats, my husband smirks and hums the lyrics to “Green Acres,” insinuating that I am more Eva than Eddie.  “Dah-ling I love you but give me Park Avenue!”  IMG_5436

Hmmph.  I do go once a week to pick up my CSA (community supported agriculture) and egg shares at Allandale Farm.  I wander for a while among the brightly-colored potted flowers and breathe in the dusty, earthy vegetables in the farm stand.IMG_5441  I imagine myself pottering about the farm:  digging up loamy carrots with their full green heads, arranging orange and red cut zinnias in an old glass spaghetti jar, filling CSA boxes with enticing/alarming (what to do with all that bokchoy!) vegetables.  The pond out back gives voice to throaty bullfrogs;  giant dragonflies skim and buzz across the surface of the water.  It’s usually hot, but I don’t mind the warmth and closeness of the old farm stand.  At least for a little while….

IMG_5445Allandale Farm, the last working farm in Boston, consists of 130 acres of land on the border of Boston and Brookline, and is the last working farm in Boston.  It has been managed by the Weld family (ancestors of Massachusetts’ former governor, William Weld) for about 200 years. I’m thankful for their careful stewardship of this precious land.   Some of the acreage is leased to the Boston Police Department’s K-9 unit, and the rest is managed by Allandale Farm.

Quick facts:

-IMG_5433 There are two ADA parking spaces and the stand is wheelchair-accessible, although the path into the stand is gravel and stone (and therefore bumpy and potentially muddy).  The farm stand itself has a level entrance and wide doors for entrance and egress, but the aisles are too narrow to allow a wheelchair-user to pass someone or even to turn around without knocking something off a shelf.

IMG_5449The farm uses organic and sustainable farming methods, and the CSA, egg and flower shares can be signed up for on-line (although 2014 CSA shares are now closed).  Prices for 20-week shares in 2014 are:  full share at $670; half share at $390; egg share at $120 and cut flower share at $110.  It’d be hard to get the shares from the garage out back to your ADA-parking space, but I bet they’d make it work if you told them your challenges.

- Allandale’s farmstand sells its own produce as well as other locally-produced goods (Salty Oats cookies; Humble Pie; Clear Flour Bakery breads and fresh Valicenti Organico pasta are some of my favorites).  You get a discount on items purchased in the store on the day you go to pick up your CSA shares.IMG_5451

– The stand is open from the end of March through Christmas Eve (think last-minute Christmas tree purchase).

– Weekdays hours are 9am – 6:30pm and weekends, 8am-6pm.

– The farm manages a blog with some pretty good recipes.  I also like the recipes on the website for 101 Cookbooks.

–  Allandale Farm runs a fantastic outdoor camp in the summer for kids aged 4-12.  Two of my kids were campers there for years.  I could never imagine my daughter Marianne navigating the camp with her wheelchair, but I think they’d willing work to make the camp manageable for kids with other developmental disabilities.

IMG_5453It’s easy to romanticize farm life.  Allandale Farm makes it easy to support a great community farm…and in the meantime, you get some of that farm fresh air and “land spreadin’ out so far and wide”  (Green Acre lyrics) — without leaving your city behind.  It’s not often you can have your cake and eat it too.

 

 

 

Haunted Boston Tour: Completely Accessible and Mostly Good

IMG_5428Everything about the Haunted Boston tour last night was accessible.  Jeff, our guide, was thoughtful, informative, engaging and entertaining.  He made a point of previewing with us how Marianne could position herself to best hear at each spooky spot on the tour.  After showing ghostly photos to the group, he made sure to show them to Marianne too.  The streets were all accessible and well lit, and every street crossing had ramps and pedestrian lights.  At about 90 minutes and one mile, the tour was just the right length.  There is nearby garage parking with ADA spots, or you can take the T to the group meeting spot at the Park Street Station.

The only fly in the ointment was that Marianne spent the last 20 minutes of the tour looking at a sea of tourists’ backs.  We were the last to pull up, and no one stepped aside so Marianne could get close enough to the front of the crowd to hear.  We assume the story of the Omni Parker House hotel haunting was good and scary, because people were listening intently.

IMG_5430

Some people are short because they’re little kids;  others because they’re sitting in a wheelchair.   If short people are in the back of a crowd, they have pretty much no chance of hearing what is going on at the front.

I offer two completely different vignettes for consideration. The other day my sister-in-law posted on FB that now that she is visibly pregnant, other T riders routinely offer her their seat.  I love that!

I also recently offered my T seat someone in need:  a boozy, teetering Red Sox fan who clearly wasn’t going to be able to stand much longer.   My motivation was a rather self-centered one, as I was mostly concerned that the guy was going to fall on me.   But I got a slurry “Hey, Lady, that’s so niiiiiice,” and you know what? It really made me kind of like him, in all of his beer-y wonder, and I smiled.

Yes, Marianne and I could have asked people last night to step aside and make room at the end of the tour.   We chose to stay in the back.  But it would have been really, really nice for us if someone had noticed on their own accord, smiled, stepped aside, and made room at the front.

 

Slide, Switch, Pull: Lessons from a Saori Weaver

IMG_4212Our SAORI teacher sounds a lot like Marianne’s yoga guru (Diane of Sitwithyoga.com.)  Yoga teaches the power of repetition to center a busy mind: Sa, Ta, Na, Ma. Mihoko introduces us to the SAORI mantra: slide, switch, pull.  There is something undeniably meditative about this contemporary, Zen-based, art form from Japan.  SAORI weaving is a truly accessible art. IMG_4240Slide, switch, pull, we murmur to ourselves, as we thread our soft and silky, sometimes scratchy, yarns on the loom.  Spools of varying hues and textures surround us on bookshelves and in baskets.  We sit immersed at our shuttles, while the bobbin gently thrums and thwaps, and the wooden frame clicks.   Silenced for two hours, we are wrapped in our cocoons of texture, sound and color.  Sometimes, a happy choice must be made;  we rise to choose from the shelves or pick from the basket at our side.  Shiny red cotton, a bumpy nub of mossy-green wool, or a surprise texture like the twig we found on the pathway or the discarded bit of orange twine?  Back to work…..and to create. IMG_4262Marianne, her friend and I spent a companionably quiet morning in this still workshop in Worcester, learning to weave,  following our own artistic imperative, being at peace.  SAORI looms are adapted to make it possible for people with physical disabilities to weave, and there is something so centering about this experience that I imagine it would benefit those of us with ADHD or sensory integration challenges too.  . “A mistake is a happy accident” says Mihoko, and in fact, practitioners of SAORI weaving welcome the unexpected.  Which many of us who live with different abilities can tell you is a good thing:  things don’t always turn out the way one expects if your hands aren’t following your brain’s orders, or you’re doing a two-handed skill with one hand, or you were too distracted to listen to more than one or two steps of the directions. IMG_4239Saori Worcester is a wheelchair-accessible venue.  Mihoko teaches trial classes or you can sign up for a basic course (6 weeks) or advanced (12 weeks). Class times vary.  Pre-registration is required.   Whether you’re product-oriented (think clothes, bags, toys, cushions) or about the flow, it’s worth a try.  And a shout-out to Janelle and Sato, who told us about it in the first place!IMG_4267

Happiness = BeHppy.com

Some days, weeks – even months – happiness comes easily.  Sometimes, not so much, and you have to work to feel good.

A Harvard Medical School study showed that smiling is contagious.  More studies have shown that there is a direct link between smiling and happiness:  the facial changes involved in smiling have direct effects on certain brain activities associated with happiness.

The really good news? You can have a direct effect on your mood, and it can start with something as simple as a smile.

And if you need help generating that smile?  Check out this new app available through iTunes.

IMG_1324 BeHppy allows you to post pictures anonymously of people, things and places that make you feel good.  You can store your posts in your own file so you can revisit them, and you can “smile” at other posts that make you happy.  Nicolas Christakes, the scientist in the NPR article referenced above, tells us that happiness is contagious and that one person’s happiness can spread through their social network for up to three degrees of separation.  That’s pretty heady stuff.

BeHppy is a form of social networking, like FaceBook, but there’s an important difference.  There are things I like about FaceBook:   it keeps me in touch with extended family, friends I don’t see often, and some news (or news-like information, such as the YouTube clip of the dogs who are afraid to go past the family cat). A friend posts pictures of her dogs almost daily that actually make my day, they are that goofily funny.  Here’s the rub on posting though: posting brings with it a request for a certain level of engagement from your reader;  on some level, I think you are asking your FB friends to notice you, if not go a step further and “like” or comment.  And that’s fine.   Human connection is the stuff of life.

What makes BeHppy work for me is its anonymity.  My post or photo is just out there, not attached to me or my ego.  It just is.  And if it resonates with someone else and makes them smile or feel good, then that’s great.

I showed my 12-year-old the BeHppy app the other day.  We spent about 15 minutes looking at the posts and talking about which ones made us happy.  Then she showed me funny YouTube clips that made her laugh, and then we watched Pharrell Williams’ Happy song video….  I think it’s safe to say that we both felt happy and more importantly, we were connected – in a way that doesn’t always happen easily with an almost-teenager and a mom.

 

 

The Emerald Necklace Park IS a green, shining jewel in the heart of Boston…but alas, it IS NOT wheelchair-friendly

Back Bay Fens section of Emerald Necklace Park

Back Bay Fens section of Emerald Necklace Park

I have a job for the City of Boston. The Emerald Necklace Park system is really beautiful, but it could better for all, just as their designer, Frederick Law Olmsted envisioned. Boston’s planners can start with pathways that are consistently accessible to wheelchair-users.

Olmsted was a landscape architect in the 1800’s whose dream was to give city residents common ground to come together to relax and escape from the pollution and congestion of the city. The Emerald Necklace Park, in Boston and Brookline, consists of nine distinct parks unified by seven miles of paths, and was designed by Olmsted over 100 years ago. What started with the Boston Common, Public Garden and Commonwealth Avenue Mall grew to incorporate the Back Bay Fens, the Riverway, Jamaica Pond, the Arboretum and Franklin Park.

Office of Emerald Park Conservancy

Office of Emerald Park Conservancy

There is a small, wheelchair-accessible building nestled into the Back Fens section of the park called “The Emerald Necklace Conservancy.” For $2, you can get a detailed map of the park space and pathways – but they are missing any handicap-accessible notations whatsoever. I called the office and spoke with someone who confirmed that this was a huge missing piece; she referred me to the Director of Historic Parks for Boston Parks and Recreation. No one answered the phone when I called in the middle of the day on a weekday, and the website for Boston Parks and Recreation has no information that I could find on wheelchair accessibility for the Emerald Necklace Parks. I find this incredibly surprising. I sent an email to Boston Parks and Rec with my questions and concerns.

Unpaved section of Emerald Necklace Park in the Fens

Unpaved section of Emerald Necklace Park in the Fens

I did my own reconnaissance, and it’s not great for a wheelchair. Discrete parts of the park are accessible for a wheelchair: the Arboretum has access and paved paths, as does Jamaica Pond. Parts of the Back Bay Fens would work for a wheelchair, but the paths are either pavement or flattened dirt paths. If it was a nice day, for example not too wet and therefore muddy, you could park at the Museum of Fine Arts or the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum and venture across the parkway to take in a bit of the Fens, but you wouldn’t get too far before the pavement was torn up or the paths became downright inaccessible.

Squeaky wheels get grease, so if you care about Boston, and it’s outdoor spaces, and whether it’s accessible to all, then please go on line to Boston Parks and Rec and send them an email too!

 

A Tale of Two Housing Projects in Newton, MA

I’ve attended two hearings this year at Newton’s Zoning Board of Appeals; one in November and then another in February. Both appeals were filed by neighbors who wanted special permits applied to group homes for developmentally disabled young adults that were being built in their neighborhoods. Both sets of appellants said, in the public hearing, that they were not discriminating against people with disabilities. Several of the petitioners (for the appeal) even said they were hurt that others thought they were being discriminatory and felt personally maligned.

I kind of see how they could convince themselves of that. The neighbors are concerned about street parking, size of the addition to the existing house, more traffic, water displacement issues, and noise. Most of these issues are dealt with when a building permit is issued. When you build a house or addition, the city or town requires engineering studies that show how you will manage displaced water and has laws governing the size of the addition that can be built on your lot. The noise complaint? That, frankly, is a specious complaint to bring before the Zoning Board, because honestly, my next-door neighbors could have a band that practices at their house every night, and I don’t really have a say about that besides appealing to their sense of common courtesy.

Back on topic.  There are two important federal laws that apply here. The Fair Housing Amendments Act (FHAA) and Americans With Disabilities Act (ADA) protect people with disabilities from being treated unfairly. The FHAA and the ADA make it very clear that the implementation of zoning laws that create barriers to community living for these individuals is illegal.

That last sentence is very, very important.

The point is that people with disabilities already have a hard enough time of it. Just completing the daily tasks of living can take longer for someone with a disability, in ways that someone without a disability might never be able to imagine. Presumably, we as a society want to break down the barriers that prevent people with disabilities from contributing to our society in the meaningful way that they have shown, again and again, that they do.

If you think of people with disabilities in a group home as a family, that should change everything. Studies have shown that the opportunity to live as a family allows people with disabilities the chance to pool their resources and live in a neighborhood that they might not otherwise be able to afford to live in. The chance to live with others means more social connection and less isolation. Having space for a live-in caretaker, or two, provides the layer of support and decision-making that those with disabilities often need — much like a parent.

And so what if there are 10 people living in a house with 2 or even 3 or 4 caretakers? My husband is one of six kids born within 7 years. He grew up in a densely-populated Irish Catholic neighborhood of Boston, in a 2300-square foot house on a quarter-of-an-acre lot. He had two parents, plus live-in help at different times when his mom was sick. Because the kids were born so close together, there were a lot of teenagers in the house for a period of time, and at least 3 or 4 extra cars in the driveway and on the street. At any given time, there might be a couple more teenagers (friends of the kids) staying indefinitely at the house for one reason or another. Did I mention the metal basketball hoop outside the kitchen windows? The same windows which were so close to the neighbor’s kitchen windows that you could hear conversations in each other’s kitchen when the weather was good and the windows open? Can you imagine hearing thud, thud, thud METAL REVERBERATING at 11 pm at night?

And guess what? This was not abnormal in neighborhoods in Boston in the 60’s and 70’s. You were either from a big family or you had cousins, or neighbors who were one of 6, or 8, or 10. We knew a family of 17 – yes, 17 kids and two parents.  There were a lot of people living together in sometimes not-so-big houses in thickly-settled city neighborhoods.  Neighbors ironed out their differences face-to-face.  (Well, OK.  Maybe it didn’t always work out that way….)

My point is that what’s at play here in Newton with regard to these group homes is subtle. There can be a tendency toward isolationism in affluent neighborhoods. Many work hard and save to buy a house in a community they feel is safe and has good schools and rising property values. And if someone or something threatens their hard-won idyll, perhaps they feel a little (sometimes a lot) entitled to put walls up, to tell the neighbor they must paint their house to keep the neighborhood looking good, to complain about someone’s lawn ornaments or front-yard vegetable garden. Is that discrimination? Maybe it’s debatable.

What I do know is that we’re better off as a society if we can integrate abilities, sensitivities, ethnicities, gender differences, religious beliefs and economics. Inclusion fosters balance and compassion in a world that feels at times like it is splintering into extremities.
So please, welcome the big noisy family of 10, whether they are a biological family or a blended family or a family of the developmentally disabled. They will probably rock your world, and they might change your life….for the better.