The one where my illusions are quickly dismissed.
I was thinking that, if I were younger and irresponsible, and I could get from here to Rt. 422, the trip to Iron Hill West Chester would probably be, given the conditions, relatively simple, taking the long way around: 422 to Rt. 202 straight into West Chester or 422 to King of Prussia, PA Turnpike to Rt. 100 and straight into West Chester.
So I took His Majesty Buddy out for a walk, down a path carved from our terrace to the main driveway through the apartment complex that had walls of snow taller than he is on either side, and started down to look at Spiece Road, which runs in front of Orchard Ridge. I stopped the guy in a truck dumping gravel and ashes on our roadway and asked him about that. His reply:
“You couldn’t get there in the first place and, in the second place, Rt. 422 looks a lot worse than things do right here.”
So I’ve started drinking on my own, especially given the disastrous first half of the Villanova Georgetown game. Started off with a Yards Philly Pale Ale. In the long run, though, this may be a whiskey day.
And, as I commented on Facebook earlier today, my working theory is that there might a whole buncha lotta good beer on tap in West Chester on the morrow.
Yeah this is not so fun. Here in South Philly most people have not even attempted to shovel yet, so I can’t even walk anywhere.