Our patron saint St. Spyridon truly has a wry sense of humor.  Two years ago we had the cataclysmic ice storm here in Worcester and other parts of New England, including my urheimat, the Merrimack Valley.  And today the feast…this morning, I left the house around 8am for orthros and liturgy.  I was driving the Jetta rather than the 4-wheel drive CRV.  I had received a few tweets from Fr. Peter but wasn’t too worried.  I drove to the end of our street (a steep hill) and was soon floundering, along with 8 other cars.  I got out, barely avoided falling down, and figured out pretty quickly that I was going nowhere slowly.  I called Fr. Dean to let him know I would probably miss orthros.  Eventually, a heroic neighbor came out with two salt dispensers and walked up and down the road spraying out calcium chloride.  I got purchase, inched up the hill in reverse, and made my way very slowly – turning a usual 10 minute Sunday morning ride into 30 minutes – to the Cathedral.  A crazy morning…there were sirens all over town like it was the apocalypse.  The black ice fooled everyone – it looked like it was merely raining but once you hit the road forget it.  Once at church I posted about the conditions on Facebook.  We still had a great turnout, and with Fr. Ephraim joining us we had four chalices for communion, which was awesome.  He also talked about the Glastonbury Thorn in the opening story to his sermon.   We had a forty-day blessing followed by the Senior Group’s lunch – and there is no group more fun than the seniors – and later in the day a Metropolis gathering.  And now I am once again ultimate toast.  The pictures I promised yesterday will be fired up tomorrow.