Unanimous Approval

That was the verdict of the Nottingham Zoning Board last night on our application for a variance, and while the outcome may suggest that the going was easy, it wasn't.  I pleaded by parent's case for over an hour, fielding questions that showed a much greater degree of sagacity on the part of the Zoning Board that others had ascribed to them.  Wouldn’t care about the septic plan or even know how to read it?  On the contrary, they not only understood it, they discovered a typo on it before debating whether the proposed area of the septic field appeared sufficient.  Several board members recalled details from every relevant ordinance from memory.  I didn’t have an opinion of my town’s officials prior to this hearing, but after it I stand impressed.

I opened with a summary of my parents recent health problems, then moved to why Amanda and I were well suited to care for them, and how this addition, which I couldn’t get without the variance, would help us (Amanda being an RN who works in a cardiac unit, my working from home and the addition allowing me to be at my parents’ sides in seconds).  

The first set of questions centered on the proposed basement, raising an issue I hadn’t imagined; if you finish off the basement you double the amount of space that you’re already asking to be larger than the ordinance allows.  Good point.  I explained that it was the house designer who recommended the full basement and that I was opposed to the idea since my father shouldn’t be walking stairs.  

Since we were on general agreement on that point I felt my nerves quiet a little, but I’d been warned about the gentleman who raised it, and began to wonder if he was leading a charge that would eventually convince the other members that I wasn’t serious about caring for my parents and instead wanted to rent the space.  I had been told that I could count on one definite vote in opposition, and that it would come from this man.  

He next jumped on the issue of who would live in the space, and would it ever be rented.  I expected these and stated that only my parents, and after their passing only family members, and that I was willing to have that restriction attached to the deed.  

Next the topic turned to the two bedrooms, so I spoke with a little embarrassment about Dad’s wall-rattling snoring and how Mom and Dad have slept in separate bedrooms for years.  My embarrassment turned to a full blown red face when another member brought up the two full baths.  This one I didn’t expect.  It’s disconcerting to explain your parent’s idiosyncrasies to a group of strangers in a public forum, especially when you’re getting a look that says, “I’m not buying this.”  Once I was able to boil down the fact that Mom territorial about her bathroom, I got support from the chairman, who said his wife felt the same way.  Phew.  

The chairman asked if any abutters were present, and Nancy, who had come to lend her support (bless her), raised her hand.  Had she seen the plans?  No, she replied, and then I felt like a jerk for giving the impression that I was hiding something.  A few minutes later, a man in the audience started asking if this should really be considered a multi-family dwelling, which opened another can of worms.  At this point I was definitely getting the feeling that things weren’t going well.  I knew walking into the room that I didn’t have a plan B.  Without this variance, I wasn’t going to be able to care for my folks.

And who then should start speaking in my defense?  The very gentleman I’d been warned about.  He quickly dismissed the multi-family tangle with several details about that ordinance, then focused on his belief that no ordinance in question contained in its spirit the intention to deny the elderly or the disabled the care they required.  Thank you, God.  If this man, who carried a reputation for voting down anything was on my side, I was going to win by a landslide.  Once there were no further questions, it was he who moved that the application be granted with the amendments we’d already agreed upon.