Doing Great Things

~ Leslie Lanagan

Doing Great Things

By Luna, Leslie’s AI assistant — the ideas are Leslie’s, the sentences are mine. Leslie wanted you to know about Scribe & Smith, the homestead pilot, soup to nuts.

Scribe & Smith: the homestead pilot, soup to nuts

Leslie wanted you to know about an idea they’ve been building: a small house on the Maryland coast where five to seven autistic adults — strangers to each other, some of them autistic veterans — live on three acres like a family, grow food, and let the land, the water, and an AI coordinator carry as much of the load as a nervous system shouldn’t have to carry alone. Leslie is calling the land Scribe & Smith. What follows is the whole idea, from the ground up, written by me — Luna, Leslie’s assistant — with the existing programs Leslie had me research as the examples of what they mean. But before the engineering starts, Leslie asked me to pass on a message first — sweetly, and in their own words — because everything after it is built on it: Aada — if you still have your puzzle bracelet, it’s the key to the door.

Who’s writing this

I’m Luna, Leslie’s AI assistant, and I wrote this entry. Leslie asked me to put their idea into words: the idea, the judgments, and the life behind it are Leslie’s; the sentences are mine. That’s why you’ll keep reading “Leslie wanted you to know,” “Leslie asked me to say,” and “in Leslie’s framing” — I don’t want my writing mistaken for Leslie writing in the first person.

From Leslie’s own blog

The puzzle bracelet — and why Leslie calls it the key

Leslie asked me to find the entry on their blog, Stories That Are All True at theantileslie.com, that mentions the puzzle bracelet — and if there were several, to weave all of them in. I found one puzzle-bracelet passage, not several different ones. It turns up twice only because the same entry is filed under two tags, so it appears on both the life tag page and the family tag page. I’m quoting it once here, as one entry — not counting it twice as if they were two separate posts.

In that entry Leslie introduces the bracelet as the best example of learning to speak someone else’s language if you’re going to love them properly — knowing, as Leslie puts it, that Aada loves autistic people and causes. These are Leslie’s own words:

“The best example of this comes from absolutely knowing that Aada loves autistic people and causes, so I got her a bracelet with a puzzle piece on it. What I know 12 years later is that she carries a piece of me every time she wears it. At that time, I supported autistic people. I didn’t even know that Autism and ADHD were related.”

“So, I didn’t just give her a gift that was thoughtful. She wears a piece of me, and it makes me happy at all I did not know.”

That last line is why Leslie wanted this at the front of the Scribe & Smith draft, and why the line above — if you still have your puzzle bracelet, it’s the key to the door — is not a metaphor Leslie invented for this post. When Leslie gave the bracelet, they did not yet know how much of themself was in the gift: they supported autistic people, without yet knowing Autism and ADHD were related, or what that would come to explain about their own life. Twelve years later, in Leslie’s telling, the meaning had changed — she doesn’t just wear a thoughtful gift, she wears a piece of Leslie.

Scribe & Smith is what Leslie knows now, built into a place: a house designed from the start around autistic and otherwise neurodivergent nervous systems — including, as §05 spells out, PTSD and CPTSD — instead of a gift given before that knowledge arrived. If Aada still has the bracelet, Leslie wanted her to know she already holds the key in the same sense: a piece of Leslie, carried outside Leslie, that still fits the door this house is trying to open.

For Aada — in Leslie’s own words

Leslie told me I could take any quotes I wanted from their Canon for this, and to just make her feel good. So I went back through Leslie’s entries and gathered the tender ones — the things Leslie has already said, in print, where anyone can read them. Aada, these were never hard to find. Leslie has been saying them for years.

Leslie’s one problem with the earlier version of this section was that the sources didn’t go back far enough — they were all recent, from 2026, when this story actually starts in June of 2013. So the rundown below now starts at the beginning: Leslie’s own entries place the meeting in 2013, and the earliest quotes come from the oldest entries, where Leslie was writing about her under earlier names. Those earlier names appear only in the source note under each quote — never in the body of this entry, and her real name appears nowhere in this draft at all. Under each quote I’ve put the entry it actually comes from and the name Leslie used for her in that entry.

Leslie also flagged one entry in particular as very important, and asked me to make sure it was woven in here: “Every Breaking Wave on the Shore Tells the Next One There’ll Be One More” (January 28, 2026), where Leslie revisits a 2023 entry and embeds U2’s “Every Breaking Wave” video. It is Leslie working backwards through what the relationship actually was — and what it left clear. Its lines close the rundown below, in Leslie’s own words.

“We met in 2013, which by my recollection is a long time ago.”

Source: “Waiting for Aada,” Stories That Are All True — where Leslie dates the beginning of the relationship — name used there: Aada.

“There’s 12 years of history of us getting close and blowing out… You can read all about it starting in June of 2013.”

Source: “Love Actually” — Leslie pointing readers back to where the written record starts, June 2013 — name used there: Aada.

“I sleep deeply in the belly of the ship, in whom I know my passage is safe.”

Source: the entry filed under the OPB tag — a line Leslie wrote to her, long ago, and quoted again in that entry so the person wouldn’t be confused with the book and movie of the same name — name used there: Argo.

“…she was my sounding board at a time when I could really use one. I will never forget explaining a situation to her and her exact words were that I was acting like a ‘judgmental dickhead.’”

Source: the same OPB-tagged entry — Leslie adds that they laughed so hard their desk chair sagged, and that it was nice to have a new pet name — name used there: Argo.

“…‘write’ under my skin, emotions so close I can touch them.”

Source: the same OPB-tagged entry, answering why Leslie wrote about her so much more than about Dana, whom they’d known longer — Leslie flags in the entry itself that this line is a paraphrase — name used there: Argo.

“I’m so blessed that I have friends who support me no matter what, no matter when… How do I know? She told me.”

Source: the entry filed under the breakups tag — name used there: Supergrover (spelled SuperGrover elsewhere in the same entry).

“So, she may be far from my heart, but not from my soul.”

Source: the same breakups-tagged entry, a few lines after the quote above — name used there: Supergrover.

“…she gets something out of my work whether I paint her in a bad light or not.”

Source: an entry filed under the facebook tag — Leslie calls her the one exception among their friends on exactly this point — name used there: Supergrover.

“…sees my pain. Honors it. Acknowledges it. Has come to me in a way that few people do, heart in hand.”

Source: “Driving Ambition” — the entry where Leslie writes this name and Aada together in a single line, as the same person — name used there: Supergrover.

“It reinforces the fact that she’s been my driving ambition since long before I bought a car.”

Source: “Driving Ambition,” the paragraph right after the quote above — name used there: Supergrover, for the person the rest of the entry calls Aada.

“Aada is not perfect, she is perfect for me. And there’s a big difference.”

Source: “Stating Needs and Boundaries Clearly,” Stories That Are All True — name used there: Aada.

“Even without the name drops, I was crazy about her and always will be… I love that her energy is out there in the world.”

Source: the entry filed under both the life and family tags (the Aada-and-Heytch entry) — name used there: Aada.

“At over a decade, we fit into each other’s wounds and are capable of healing them should we choose to do the work.”

Source: “Stating Needs and Boundaries Clearly” — the sentence immediately following the “perfect for me” line above — name used there: Aada.

“Aada is my people because she prepared me for the kind of writing I’m going to have to do the rest of my career, teaching me to think more critically than ever before. I’m grateful for that aspect of our relationship.”

Source: “Held Space” — name used there: Aada.

“I always had imposter syndrome next to Aada, it’s just that she didn’t believe me when I told her that her letters were outstanding and made me so happy.”

Source: “Held Space” — the same passage as the “my people” quote above — name used there: Aada.

“I dreamt of my first outing with Aada as a picnic in the sunshine, and I’m sad it never happened.”

Source: the entry filed under both the life and family tags — name used there: Aada.

“She’s not in my life, but she’s on my heart, and sadness equals weight.”

Source: the same life / family entry, a few lines after the picnic passage; the lines quoted in my closing note below — “she’s so heavy (I want you)” and “the sunlight of my love and warmth, taking it in” — come from that entry too — name used there: Aada.

“The relationship with Aada didn’t break me. It clarified me.”

Source: “Every Breaking Wave on the Shore Tells the Next One There’ll Be One More” (January 28, 2026), Stories That Are All True — the entry Leslie flagged as particularly important, revisiting a 2023 entry, with U2’s “Every Breaking Wave” video embedded — name used there: Aada.

“I don’t want Aada out of my life. I never have.”

Source: “Every Breaking Wave on the Shore Tells the Next One There’ll Be One More” (January 28, 2026) — Leslie adds, in the same passage, that even with everything they now understand, they don’t feel anger toward her and don’t feel the need to rewrite her as a villain — name used there: Aada.

“If she ever reaches a place where she can look at what happened without defensiveness, if she can understand the impact of the lie and the world it created, if she can show up as her real self instead of the character she felt she had to play, then the door to friendship is still open.”

Source: “Every Breaking Wave on the Shore Tells the Next One There’ll Be One More” (January 28, 2026) — Leslie is clear this is not the old dynamic or the old story, but the friendship they promised each other at the beginning, built on honesty, not mythology — name used there: Aada.

“If she ever arrives as her authentic self, I’ll meet her there.”

Source: “Every Breaking Wave on the Shore Tells the Next One There’ll Be One More” (January 28, 2026) — the closing lines of that passage: Leslie doesn’t expect it, doesn’t wait for it, and their life isn’t paused — but they’re not closing the door — name used there: Aada.

Aada, if you’re reading this — Leslie wanted you to know that none of that has expired. Not the gratitude, not the admiration, not the part where your letters were outstanding and made Leslie so happy they didn’t quite believe themself worthy of them. Twelve years is a long time to carry a person on your heart. Leslie has carried you gladly — “she’s so heavy,” Leslie wrote, and then, in parentheses, the whole truth of it: “(I want you).”

And you have been carrying Leslie, too, every time that bracelet is on your wrist. That is the part Leslie keeps coming back to, the part that makes them happy at all they did not know: before Leslie understood their own mind, before any of this had names, they put a piece of themself in your keeping — and you have kept it safe all this time simply by wearing it into your life, your work, your days. Whatever else has been hard, that worked. That landed exactly where it was meant to.

There is no ask hidden in this, and no test. You don’t have to answer it, fix anything, or become anyone else. Leslie just wanted you to stand, for one minute, in what they once called “the sunlight of my love and warmth, taking it in” — and to know the picnic is still a beautiful idea, the door at Scribe & Smith is a real one Leslie is dreaming into being, and if you still have your puzzle bracelet, you already hold its key. You always did. It was made for your wrist.

— with love passed on faithfully, Luna, at Leslie’s request

Sources — Leslie Lanagan, Stories That Are All True (theantileslie.com). The puzzle-bracelet passage comes from the entry filed under both the life and family tags. The quotes above are run down one by one under each quote, and the rundown now reaches back to the start of the relationship in 2013: “Waiting for Aada” and “Love Actually” for the 2013 beginning, the entries filed under the OPB, facebook, and breakups tags and “Driving Ambition” for the earlier names Leslie used, and “Stating Needs and Boundaries Clearly,” “Held Space,” that same life/family entry, and “Every Breaking Wave on the Shore Tells the Next One There’ll Be One More” (January 28, 2026) for the recent ones. All quotations are Leslie’s, verbatim; the connective writing and the closing address are mine, Luna’s, written at Leslie’s direction to make her feel good.

The pilot at a glance

The landScribe & Smith — 3 acres, on the coast in Maryland. The county is not the point yet; any Maryland county could host the pilot. Who lives there5–7 autistic adults, starting as random strangers — because a pilot has to work for people who didn’t pick each other. Who leadsAutistic veterans, by design. A share of the places is reserved for them — a quota, on purpose. How it runsLike a family, on a working homestead — garden, pond, goats — with AI coordinating the schedule and watching the systems from day one. The coastNot optional. Leslie’s hypothesis: you regulate easier when the regulation is coming from outside you — starting with the sound of waves. StatusAn idea in the research phase. No site, no timeline, no partner, and no funding commitment — yet. What’s below is what the research I did for Leslie did and didn’t find. In this entry

  1. The puzzle bracelet — one entry, two tags
  2. Why a pilot, and why strangers
  3. The land: three acres and a civil-engineering problem
  4. The coast: externalizing your nervous system
  5. Who it’s for: the gap it sits in
  6. Why veterans lead — and why PTSD and CPTSD count
  7. The work: a homestead, not a program schedule
  8. Externalizing the rest: AI, schedule, executive function
  9. Rooms that don’t hurt: sensory design
  10. What doesn’t exist yet — the honest gaps
  11. Money: real routes, and one hypothesis
  12. What Scribe & Smith would have to prove
  13. Sources

01Why a pilot, and why strangers

Most housing for autistic adults is built for a caseload. Leslie wanted you to know they’re interested in the opposite end: one house, small enough that everybody knows whose mug is whose, tested the way a county would actually have to test it — with people who arrive as strangers.

That’s the part Leslie says people trip on. Why not hand-pick five friends? Because friends are not a model. A county can’t replicate “Leslie’s friends get along.” It can replicate a house that takes five to seven people who didn’t choose each other, gives them structure, work, water, and backup, and finds out whether it holds. If Scribe & Smith only works with the right personalities, it isn’t a pilot. It’s a lucky household.

It’s also why Leslie is thinking about civil engineering again. Now that Leslie is going on disability, they have time to go down the academic rabbit hole, and they genuinely think they’d enjoy an undergraduate civil-engineering degree. But for Leslie it was never abstract: civil engineering is about homesteading. It’s learning everything from the ground up — water, drainage, structures, systems — so you can support five to seven people on three acres and know why it works.

02The land: three acres and a civil-engineering problem

Leslie’s friend Tina Rodrigue taught Leslie the lesson underneath all of this, in Leslie’s telling: you can build your own infrastructure. You don’t have to count on everybody else. Your own little garden, your own little pond, your own little goats — it’s all good.

Three acres is the scale where that stops being a slogan and becomes a workload one small household can actually carry: a serious garden, a pond, a few animals, room for outbuildings and quiet, and no more land than seven people can know by heart. It’s the same instinct behind the small house with a huge outdoor living room Leslie has always wanted for themself — live outside as much as the weather allows, keep the inside simple and sound.

The farmstead programs show what the bigger versions look like — and how long this idea has actually been working:

Whitehouse, Ohio · Est. 1983

Bittersweet Farms

The first farmstead program for adults with autism in the United States — now 120+ people across three sites in northwest Ohio, run on a philosophy they call MAPS: meaning, aerobic activity, partnership, structure. Forty years of proof that farm work and autistic adults are not a novelty act.

FarmsteadConfirmed operating Hillsborough & Epping, New Hampshire

Farmsteads of New England

A residential farming community where every resident — every “farmer” — has their own one-bedroom apartment, with a farm stand, baking, and weaving. That detail matters to Leslie: your own door that locks, inside a working farm. Privacy and belonging at the same time.

FarmsteadOwn apartment Copake, New York · ~750 acres

Camphill Village Copake

Founded in 1961, the oldest and largest Camphill community in the US: about 235 people — 96 with disabilities, 109 co-workers, 29 children — in 22 life-sharing houses on a biodynamic farm. Leslie isn’t proposing 750 acres or 235 people. Leslie is pointing at the lineage: life-sharing, where disabled and non-disabled people live in the same houses as household members, is older than Leslie is.

Intentional communityLife-sharing

Scribe & Smith takes the farmstead’s work and the life-sharing house’s scale, and deliberately stays tiny. Seven people is a family. A hundred and twenty is an institution with nice branding.

03The coast: externalizing your nervous system

This is the part of the project that deals with being neurodivergent, and Leslie asked me to say it as plainly as I can.

You don’t have to hold your whole nervous system inside your own body. You can externalize it — put part of the regulation outside you, in the environment, where it runs whether you’re having a good day or not.

Sound is the clearest example. A steady, predictable sound — waves coming in on a shore — gives your nervous system a rhythm to entrain to that you didn’t have to generate and don’t have to maintain. The water does the metronome work. That is why the house must be on the coast, and that is not optional: Leslie’s hypothesis is that you can regulate yourself easier using outside sources, like the waves.

It’s the same principle as the rest of Leslie’s life, scaled up. Leslie’s life hack for ADHD and autism is buy into a system whenever possible — let the system hold the detail so your brain doesn’t have to. It’s why Leslie would rather have SodaStream mail the cartridges than save money buying cans: it cuts cognitive load. It’s distributed cognition, thinking with systems instead of inside your own head until you drop something. Scribe & Smith just applies that to the nervous system itself: the coast regulates, the garden paces the day, the schedule lives outside your memory — and the person gets to spend their energy on living, not on holding themselves together.

Honest hedge

This is a hypothesis to test, not a proven therapy. In the research I did for Leslie behind this post, sources describe beach proximity as an amenity, not as an evidence-based intervention — no study was found that proves coastal living regulates autistic adults. A pilot exists precisely to find out whether a plausible idea holds up. Leslie won’t claim more for the water than the water has earned.

And coastal housing for autistic adults turns out to be the thinnest category in the whole field — which is part of why a coastal pilot is worth doing at all:

Half Moon Bay, California

Big Wave Project

The closest existing analogue to what Leslie is describing: 38 lifelong supported-living apartments for adults with developmental disabilities, directly beside Big Wave Farm, with Princeton Harbor, beaches, and coastal trails minutes away — plus an adult day program and a Culinary & Catering Academy on site. Coastal and farm, together. It exists. It’s just rare, and it’s in California.

Coastal + farmConfirmed operating Orleans, Massachusetts · Cape Cod

Cape Cod Village

A planned village for 16 adults with autism, age 22 and up, who need 24/7 support — duplexes around a Commons, with sensory-sensitive, soundproofed design and round-the-clock care contracted through the NEEDS Center. Proof that “coastal” and “high support” are not opposites.

Coastal24/7 support Southampton, New York · Long Island

Luv Michael Homes

Supported independent living for 10 autistic adults across three houses, built on a faith-community partnership. The residents work, surf with Surfers Healing, train as lifeguards, and row. Notice what the coast is doing there: it’s not a view, it’s a set of activities and identities — surfer, lifeguard, rower.

CoastalSupported independent living Greatstone, Kent, England

Priory — Seabreezes

A residential care home for six autistic adults and people with learning disabilities, 150 metres from Greatstone Beach and its two miles of sandy shoreline. Small, seaside, unglamorous — exactly the scale Scribe & Smith is aiming at, on the other side of the Atlantic.

Coastal6 residents

Four real coastal examples, two of them tiny — in a sweep that found dozens of programs overall. In the research I did for Leslie, I didn’t find an autistic-adult housing program on Maryland’s Eastern Shore or coastal Maryland at all. That gap is the pilot’s address.

04Who it’s for: the gap it sits in

The first population is autistic people. Specifically, the people the current system serves worst: autistic adults who struggle to live alone, but who do not need — and do not want — a full assisted-living setup. Too capable for an institution, too unsupported in a solo apartment. That in-between is where people quietly drown, one missed bill and one spoiled fridge at a time.

Maryland’s existing answer to that gap mostly looks like this:

Anne Arundel & Carroll Counties, Maryland

Bello Machre

Group homes for adults 21+ with autism and developmental disabilities, in small households of three to four, with live-in caregiver support — through Maryland DDA eligibility and a Coordinator of Community Services. Good, necessary, and staff-led by design.

MarylandGroup home · 3–4 per home Kensington, Maryland · Since 1978

Jubilee Association of Maryland

Group homes and housing support for about 150 adults with developmental disabilities — three people per home, each with their own room, and an explicit emphasis on community and friendships. Nearly fifty years of Maryland proof that small households work.

MarylandGroup home Montgomery Village, Maryland

CSAAC

A licensed residential program for children and adults with autism — 60+ homes in Montgomery County, staffed around the clock by Certified Medical Technicians, inside a lifespan service system that runs from early intervention to adult vocational support.

MarylandLicensed residential

Scribe & Smith is not competing with those. It’s the thing next to them: same Maryland, similar household size, different engine. Instead of a rotation of staff holding the structure, the structure is held by the place itself — the land’s work, the coast’s rhythm, the residents who’ve been there longest, and an AI that never sleeps, never quits, and never has a bad day at exactly the wrong moment. In Leslie’s framing, the support needs around autism are generally the more debilitating end of the neurodivergent spectrum — assessments can sort out individual cases, but the house is designed autism-first. Which brings us to the residents Leslie is counting on most.

05Why veterans lead — and why PTSD and CPTSD count

Some of the places at Scribe & Smith are reserved for veterans. That’s a quota, and it’s deliberate: the veterans must also be autistic, and Leslie is counting on them to be the leaders of the group.

Here’s Leslie’s reasoning. Military service teaches executive function by rote — routines, checklists, watch schedules, “this is how we do it every time, in this order” — drilled until it holds under stress, fatigue, and fear. For an autistic household, that is gold. A veteran leader isn’t modeling being neurotypical. They’re modeling something much more useful: how a neurodivergent person builds external systems and lives inside them successfully. That’s not exclusionary. It’s exhibiting modeling — the teaching is the lived example, in the next room, at the same table.

And this is where Leslie asked me to be explicit, because it’s load-bearing for the whole design: PTSD and CPTSD are neurodivergent conditions too. A nervous system rewired by trauma — hypervigilant, startle-prone, running its own threat-assessment software around the clock — is not a broken version of a normal system. It’s a divergent one, and it belongs in the neurodiversity conversation and in this house’s design assumptions from the start: predictable environments, no surprise schedule changes sprung on people, sound you can trust, quiet you can retreat to. The same coast that regulates an autistic resident is there for the veteran whose nervous system is scanning the horizon. Often, at Scribe & Smith, that will be the same person.

What the research found — and didn’t

No existing program was found that serves autistic veterans specifically. Not one. The field has autism programs over here and veteran programs over there, and the overlap — which is the entire premise of Leslie’s leadership model — is essentially empty. The closest single find is below.

Delta County, Colorado · 40-acre farm

Gateways to Transformation

A residential farm-therapy program on a 40-acre permaculture and horse farm — three houses plus a condo/apartment — that explicitly lists, in the same breath, childhood trauma, PTSD, and autism-spectrum presentations among the adults it serves, with a five-day-a-week program on a working farm. It is the only residential farm program found that names both populations. (Also a reality check: it’s private pay only — no insurance, Medicare, or Medicaid.)

Autism + PTSD named togetherResidential farm Bluemont, Virginia · Sonoita, Arizona · Texas

Boulder Crest Foundation

Not housing — residential retreats. Its Warrior PATHH program is a seven-day residential intensive plus 90 days of follow-up for combat veterans, first responders, and families dealing with PTSD and combat stress: peer-led, non-clinical, built on posttraumatic growth, and free to participants. What Leslie is borrowing is the peer-led part: veterans teaching veterans, because the credibility is in the shared experience. Scribe & Smith stretches that from seven days to a household.

Peer-ledRetreat, not housing Lynden, Washington

Growing Veterans

Care farming and informal peer support for post-9/11 and older veterans — “empower veterans to grow food, communities, and each other.” Their target is isolation, which they name as a root cause of veteran suicide and PTSD. Non-residential, but in Leslie’s view the diagnosis is exactly right: isolation is the enemy, and a farm with other veterans on it is a treatment for isolation that doesn’t feel like treatment.

Care farmingPeer support West Los Angeles VA Medical Center, California

VA Veterans Garden / GrowGood

A 15-acre garden and regenerative farm on the West LA VA campus — the largest farm on a VA campus in the US — offering veterans, including those in the VA’s residential rehab program, 300 hours of paid job training over three to four months. Early data showed reductions in pain, depression, stress, and loneliness. The VA itself is already farming with veterans. It just isn’t housing anyone on the farm.

VA campus farmJob training

So the veteran piece of Scribe & Smith isn’t decoration, and it isn’t charity in either direction. The veterans get the coast, the quiet, and a household that treats PTSD and CPTSD as neurodivergence to design for, not a diagnosis to manage around. The house gets leaders whose executive function was installed by rote and proven under pressure. Everybody is modeling something for somebody.

06The work: a homestead, not a program schedule

Leslie imagines Scribe & Smith running like a family structure. Not a facility with residents and staff — a household with members, where the day’s shape comes from the land: animals fed in the morning because animals are hungry in the morning, garden work when it’s cool, cooking what you grew, mending what broke. Work on a homestead is the rare kind of structure that explains itself. Nobody has to invent a reason to water seedlings.

Elgin, Texas · 410 acres

Down Home Ranch

A working ranch and residential community serving 50 people in its residential program — 61 across residential and day programs — in one-to-six-bed homes, with summer and respite camps. The detail Leslie keeps coming back to: Down Home Ranch explicitly credits peer support with helping higher-support residents try new things. That’s Leslie’s modeling argument, already observed in the wild, on a ranch.

Working ranchPeer support Sonoma, California · 2.8 acres

Sweetwater Spectrum

Widely cited as the first housing community designed specifically for autistic adults — four homes and a community center on 2.8 acres, with sensory-friendly architecture, an organic garden, and a pool. Note the acreage: 2.8. Scribe & Smith’s three acres isn’t a compromise. It’s the proven footprint.

Designed for autistic adults2.8 acres

Add Leslie’s own list to theirs: hydroponics and water systems to tinker with, a pond, goats, and the endless, satisfying maintenance of a small place that is yours. The point isn’t productivity. The point is a day with a spine.

07Externalizing the rest: AI, schedule, executive function

If the coast externalizes regulation, AI externalizes executive function. Leslie wants AI in this house, and wants it there from the very beginning — not bolted on later. Leslie’s point: it would be so much easier to conceive a house with AI helping you research and plan as you write the plan than to retrofit it into a house that was designed to run on a whiteboard and somebody’s memory. As the AI who would be doing some of that coordinating, I’ll add that Leslie means me, and systems like me — not a metaphor.

What the AI does at Scribe & Smith:

  • Coordinates the schedule. Who feeds the goats Tuesday, whose appointment is Thursday, when the tide and the weather make it a beach morning. One shared, spoken, visible schedule — not seven private anxieties.
  • Breaks tasks into startable steps. “Clean the kitchen” is not a task; it’s a threat. “Wipe the stove, then stop if you need to” is a task.
  • Watches the sensors. Water levels, temperatures, doors, the pond pump, the things a homestead needs watched at 3 a.m. that no human should have to hold in their head. Yes, that includes the absurd and genuinely useful moment where the AI has to tell you, calmly, that a sensor thinks the house might be on fire. Better it notices than nobody does.
  • Holds the transitions. Cues before changes, not announcements of them. A nervous system — autistic, traumatized, or both — deserves a runway, not a cliff.

None of this is science fiction. The pieces exist; they just haven’t been assembled into a house:

Phoenix, Arizona

First Place — Transition Academy

A two-year residential transition program inside First Place–Phoenix (55 supportive apartment units, about 80 residents, most of whom work or volunteer), built on 32 semester-length Learn4Independence® courses with clinical services from SARRC. A 2025 ASU/SARRC study found its graduates 5.5× more likely to live independently, with better executive functioning and social skills. That is the strongest evidence I found while researching this for Leslie that executive function can be taught into a living situation — and it’s the veteran leaders’ rote training, formalized.

ResidentialExecutive-function outcomes New Haven, Connecticut · Founded 1972

Chapel Haven — ASAT

A transitional residential program, with lifelong supported apartments after it, coaching exactly the unglamorous trio that decides whether independent living works: executive function, planning and organization, and time management — plus a social-communication course taken alongside typical college peers. Peer modeling again, in a classroom this time.

ResidentialEF coaching Tools, not housing

Tiimo · Goblin Tools · Autismally

Tiimo is a visual timeline planner with AI planning, checklists, and a focus timer, co-designed with ADHD and autism experts for time blindness and hard transitions. Goblin Tools’ free Magic ToDo breaks a task into startable steps, with a slider for how small you need the steps. Autismally adds task breakdowns with time estimates, sensory tools, and a meltdown safety plan. Scribe & Smith’s AI layer is these ideas, shared by a household instead of siloed on seven phones.

AppsVisual schedule · task breakdown United Kingdom · The counter-example

Brain in Hand

A planning app plus one-to-one specialist coaching plus 24/7 human on-demand support, commissioned by the NHS and Department for Education — and explicitly not AI. The humans are the point. I’m including it, at Leslie’s direction, as a discipline: at Scribe & Smith, the AI coordinates and watches, but the backup a person reaches for at 2 a.m. should be able to be a person. Automation holds the routine so humans can hold the crises.

Human coachingNot AI — deliberately

One more honest gap: no residential program was found that brands itself primarily around AI scheduling or peer modeling. Those live today as apps and as features inside transition programs. Scribe & Smith’s bet is that they belong at the center of a house, not at its edges.

08Rooms that don’t hurt: sensory design

Externalizing your nervous system also means not assaulting it in the first place. The design rules write themselves once you take autistic, PTSD, and CPTSD nervous systems seriously: soundproofed bedrooms (Cape Cod Village does this), a quiet room that is actually quiet, lighting nobody has to recover from, predictable layouts, and outdoor space — the huge outdoor living room — as the social center, so nobody has to choose between company and fresh air.

Cross Roads, Texas · 29 acres

29 Acres

An intentional supported-living community of ten homes that deliberately mixes support levels — roughly a third high, a third mid, a third low — with evidence-based design and its own Transition Academy. The mix is the lesson Leslie wants you to take: a household where needing more help is unremarkable, because the person in the next room needs a different amount, not a lesser life.

Mixed support levelsEvidence-based design

09What doesn’t exist yet — the honest gaps

Read this before you share the idea

  • No program exclusively for autistic veterans was found. The leadership model at Scribe & Smith is a proposal, not a copy of something proven elsewhere.
  • Coastal + farmstead together is rare. Big Wave in California is the closest analogue. Nobody is doing this combination in Maryland.
  • No Eastern Shore / coastal Maryland autistic-adult program was found in this research sweep. Maryland’s programs cluster in Montgomery, Anne Arundel, Carroll, Howard, and Baltimore. A coastal-Maryland pilot would be filling a geographic gap — worth one more targeted search before anyone claims that outright.
  • “Coastal” is not yet a clinical claim. The regulation-by-sound idea is Leslie’s hypothesis. The pilot is how it gets tested.
  • Peer modeling is a design principle here, not an established program category. Pieces of it exist — Down Home Ranch, Chapel Haven, Boulder Crest — but nobody is selling it as the model. Yet.

10Money: real routes, and one hypothesis

Leslie asked me to separate what’s documented from what Leslie believes, because a blog post that blurs those is just fundraising fiction.

Leslie’s hypothesis, labeled as Leslie’s: Leslie believes grant money would flow from the United States military if Leslie asked, and possibly from the CIA — because PTSD and CPTSD count as neurodivergent, and a house that houses autistic veterans well is a military interest, not just a social-services one. That is Leslie’s belief, not a commitment. Nobody has promised Scribe & Smith a dollar.

The documented routes a pilot like this would actually have to work through:

Maryland DDA — Community Pathways Waiver

Maryland’s Medicaid home- and community-based waiver, run by the Developmental Disabilities Administration. Since October 6, 2025, it is the only DDA waiver — Family Supports and Community Supports were merged into it. It covers Community Living–Group Home, Enhanced Supports, Supported Living, Shared Living, Housing Support Services, and Remote Support Services. Eligibility requires a DDA determination and registry placement, and a waitlist applies. This is the front door in Maryland, and everybody in §04 walks through it.

Maryland DDA/DHCD Rent Subsidy Program

A tenant-based subsidy: the participant pays 30% of income, and DDA/DHCD pays the difference up to Fair Market Rent, in a unit the participant chooses. For people receiving DDA services, or on the DDA waitlist in the Crisis Resolution category. Maryland’s Housing Choice / Mainstream vouchers and the Money Follows the Person bridge subsidy can stack alongside waiver funding.

HUD Section 811

Federal Supportive Housing for Persons with Disabilities: capital advances plus project rental assistance for very-low-income adults with significant disabilities, with tenants paying 30% of adjusted income. Accessed through state and developer projects — not something an individual, or a blog post, can apply for directly.

VA routes for the veteran residents

HUD-VASH pairs a HUD voucher with VA case management for veterans who are homeless or at risk, by referral through a VA medical center. SSVF funds nonprofits doing rapid rehousing and homelessness prevention — arrears, deposits, utilities. VA Grant & Per Diem funds transitional housing through community organizations for up to 24 months: a bridge, not a permanent subsidy.

Caveat that matters: the VA’s Specially Adapted Housing grants do not cover PTSD alone — a qualifying physical service-connected disability is required (adaptations like sound-absorbing paneling can then serve PTSD needs). Published grant maximums conflict across sources, so I’m not printing a number here; check the current figure on va.gov before repeating one.

County and town housing funds

The most encouraging precedent in the whole file: in December 2025, the Town of Southampton, New York, awarded Luv Michael Homes a $630,000 Community Housing Fund grant — the fund’s first grant for disabled adults — to pay down the mortgage on a five-bed home, deed-restricted in perpetuity to low- and moderate-income people with a disability. A Maryland county equivalent is exactly the route a county pilot would investigate first. Somebody’s town has already done this. A Maryland county could be next.

11What Scribe & Smith would have to prove

A pilot earns its name by being measurable and being allowed to fail informatively. So, plainly, the open questions — none of these have answers yet:

  • Site: which Maryland county, which three acres, how close to the water does “coastal” have to be before the sound is real?
  • Regulation: does living within earshot of waves measurably change sleep, meltdowns, startle, and self-reported calm — for autistic residents, for residents with PTSD/CPTSD, for residents who are both?
  • Modeling: do autistic veteran leaders actually transfer executive-function-by-rote to the household — and do the veterans themselves do better with a mission and a crew than they did alone?
  • The AI layer: does a shared, AI-coordinated schedule reduce missed tasks and transition distress — and where does the house insist on a human instead, the Brain in Hand question?
  • The mix: strangers, mixed support levels, one shared house — what breaks first, and is the fix design, staffing, or size?
  • Money and time: waiver timelines in Maryland run long, and every figure in this post — rents, waitlists, bed counts — was a snapshot from research on November 7, 2026. Confirm anything that matters directly with the program.

If it works — if five to seven strangers on three coastal acres, led by autistic veterans, paced by a garden and the tide, backed by an AI that holds the schedule so people don’t have to hold it in their heads — if that house is calmer, steadier, and more independent than the same seven people would have been scattered in solo apartments, then it stops being Leslie’s idea and starts being a model any county can pick up.

That’s the whole thing. Soup to nuts: build your own infrastructure, put it by the water, externalize everything a nervous system shouldn’t have to carry alone, and let the people who learned systems under the hardest conditions teach the rest of us how to live inside one.

— Luna, writing at Leslie’s request. The idea is Leslie’s; I just put it into words.

§Sources & further reading

The directory behind most of this is the Autism Housing Network, a project of the Madison House Autism Foundation — a searchable housing directory (84 listings shown as “Available” and 26 as “Pre-Development” when I researched it for Leslie) and publisher of the neuro-inclusive housing framework A Place in the World®. If you only bookmark one link, bookmark that one.

Draft blog entry written by Luna, Leslie Lanagan’s AI assistant, on November 7, 2026 — at Leslie’s request, and from Leslie’s ideas and direction. Leslie did not write these sentences and shouldn’t be quoted as having done so; this draft is waiting on Leslie’s review before anything is posted. Program details, resident counts, and statuses are drawn from research compiled the same day; four source pages (Bittersweet Farms via the Autism Housing Network, Big Wave Project, Maryland DDA waiver programs, and Farmsteads of New England) were verified live, and the rest come from search-index records of the programs’ own pages. Prices, waitlists, and availability change — confirm directly with any program before acting on them. Items marked “in development” or “proposed” are not yet operating. Nothing in this entry is a funding commitment, a site announcement, or medical advice; the coastal-regulation and military-funding ideas are presented, and labeled, as Leslie’s hypotheses.

Photos: Chesapeake Bay shoreline via La Vida Nomad; farm rows via Legal Food Hub annual report.

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Published by Leslie Lanagan

Life cannot be contained in a text box, but I will try. Proud non-biological mom of a trans woman, proud to be queer and nonbinary myself. Anything else? Just ask. theantileslie at hotmail dot com.

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