
Last Sunday we avoided the icy paths through the park, and headed down over the former slag heaps, through the shiny new Summerset development (and its gorgeous view) almost down to the Homestead Bridge, but then up, up, and up back to Beechwood with a quick trip past the houses of some neighborhood RG members who we tried to wake up. (Though admittedly some may have been out of town.) The hills were a bit killer, but this is Squirrel Hill. (In Spanish, La Colina de las Ardillas - more elegant, no?) Unaccountably, though we had a pretty good turnout, nobody made it to coffee - which was a little sad. And just as when a tree falls in the forest with no one to hear it, what of the endorsements when there is no napkin to write them on?
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