This weekend I went to Philadelphia and joined my friends Melanie and Father Kevin for a Christmas Wassail Party at the fancy Ivy Hall.The Mercians were in attendance, and so there were men walking around in white robes and black capes, which was quite fitting for the Old World ambiance.
The building was absolutely gorgeous, and as we curiously discovered each room, I couldn't help but think what a perfect setting this could be for a real-life game of Clue!
There was a parlor, an old library, a classic study, a large ballroom, a conservatory, a kitchen, a dining room, and even a few secret passage ways. The only thing I couldn't find was the billiard room, but I'm sure that was only because I was distracted with the prospects of assigning character names to each person I was introduced to.
The dignified older woman seated on the bench (who I met first) would have made a fantastic Mrs. Peacock, and the frazzled-looking servant woman was a perfect Mrs. White. I made my selection for the role of the gorgeous Miss Scarlett, and I did happen to run into a great Colonel Mustard fellow up in the study, although I was disappointed that he wasn't smoking a pipe. Mr. Green would have been the man behind the bar who served the wine, but I was having trouble finding the absent-minded professor-type who would be my Professor Plum.
I knew the murder weapon couldn't possibly be the candlestick, since Melanie was innocently fiddling with one repeatedly, trying to prevent the inflammation of the pointsetta plant that was much too near the flame. I doubt it was a knife, since they seemed all tied up with the cuttings of keish and other such food items. The revolver seemed permanently planted on the wall above the fireplace mantel, and the barrel was dusty inside, so I crossed that off my suspect list. It could have been been the rope, I suppose, since that wasn't where I expected it to be; the dumb waiter space was filled with ethernet wires instead.Oh wait. I think I am confusing my buildings. We went into another one of even larger grandeur after Ivy Hall, you see. This one didn't have a name and certainly didn't have any guests, but it was twice the size of the first one and was accessible to our exploration only because Melanie had a key. The whole building was dark black and could have been exceedingly scary, except for the fact that Father Kevin planted himself in the foyer and played the grand piano, which brightened the place with sound.
Melanie gave me a tour of all three levels and then the basement, and this must have taken us a good 45 minutes or so to complete. There was a solarium, an impressive library filled with antique books from floor to ceiling, and marble fireplaces in every other room. The servant's quarters were spooky and extra cold, so we vacated those rooms as quickly as possible, but not before my eyes noticed a wrench, covered in dust and thus off my suspect list also. I think I may have counted two dozen bathrooms, and I was particularly interested in the white porcelain bathtubs, given that I am searching for some plumbing hardware for mine. The basement was the most entertaining place of all, for -- beneath several decade's worth of dust and spiderwebs -- there laid two bowling lanes, complete with pins and your choice of balls! I rolled -- but got a gutter ball.
I desperately wanted to take funny photographs all night, but of course my camera's battery had quit out on me, forcing me to rely not on a digital chip's memory but instead on my biological one. But I did notice that there was an excess of old, loose plumbing in the basement, rendering the use of a lead pipe as a strong possibility for the murder weapon!
