This move from Vancouver to Vermont is not an easy prospect for ‘lil sis. We have been scouring the area and the internet trying to discover the potentials of her new home.
One thing you should know about my sister (let’s call her “C”) is that she’s painfully allergic to malls and other large (or small, actually) shopping areas. I have had the misfortune to be in her presence on the occasion of an allergic reaction. First, almost imperceptibly, her blood pressure rises as indicated by a slight coloration in her cheeks. Then the grumps start, which present as snapped answers to quite rational questions (i.e. which bag do you like better, the blue or the red?). These grumps slowly increase in intensity until the final phrase is reached which can be termed as The Explosion. At this point, when she says, “We have to leave, NOW!,” please do. Drop the blue (or red) bag and exit immediately in a calm and orderly fashion.
I mention this only to clarify that the move is not made difficult by the distinct decrease in shopping opportunities in the Upper Valley – far from it – but rather a fear of the lack of community, walkability and get-out-ability. I believe C and her husband would live on top of a mountain if it wasn’t for a preference for indoor plumbing (a preference with which I wholeheartedly concur) and a genuine need for local coffee-shop camaraderie (again, I agree).
If not on a mountain or drinking good coffee with friends, C’s joy is found on a bike. And this is where the serendipity comes in.
On my reconnaissance mission I had noticed a bike path. Not knowing if it was like the Rutland bike path which begins with great hope but ends 4.3 minutes later in a soggy ball field, we both did some research. C called some organization and discovered at some point in the conversation that her boss-to-be is an expert on said bike path and rides it the 6 or so miles every day to work. To quote C, “It made me very happy.”
So, once again, serendipity rides into to save the day (or at least the deflated mood).