2.8 Days Later–Entry 3.2

In these dismal times, my fellow Short Hillers huddle in masses at the alter of our local St James. Here in the oaken arms of this faithful steward, we find comfort for what ales us, allowing us to tap into the frothy nectar so long held sacred by our ubiquitous, Irish cousins. Thank you, St James, thank you for having electricity and a killer cheeseburger.