A gazillion inches of snow and nowhere to go. High winds close all but the most useless of lifts: Snowshed, Ramshead, and Northbrook. Eventually they opened the double double, but we were off ordering Irish coffees by then.
Hope gave up hope and went home. Michael decided to go home and sleep with his own wife for the first time this week. Steve, Dennis, and I went to lunch.
Back home in Manch, people are calling it a war zone. High winds knocked out phone service, power, and Internet. Felled trees, downed power lines, blown transformers. Steve's mother, Rose, went through the night with no power and into the morning. When the temperature inside her home dipped to 59 degrees, I reach the boiling point and insist she hunker down at my parents' house. Heat, hot water, a warm dinner. Thanks, Tim & Dee!
Brother Dave, also without power, might once again stay at Houligan Hotel where he will surely complain about the lack of cable channels.
We have all amenities here at the Chardonnay Chalet, and it's still snowing. Dumping! The weather today has been strange. We've mainly had snow with short bouts of sunshine followed by sleet and then more snow. We're watching the Killington channel as bar patrons slide drinks down the bar curling style at the Lookout.
How does that song go? "Chill the wine..."
No comments:
Post a Comment