” Sonja always knew what she wanted, and I always tried to make sure she got it. I got in first. A waiter, maybe twenty-five years old and Hispanic-...ooking, brought us menus. His name tag read “Juan Carlos.” “Hey there, J.C., how’s it hangin’? Sylvia evidently knew him. “Hello, Sonja,” he replied, gazing at a spot about eight inches below her chin. “So, how do you like my new blouse?” Fashion-conscious wasn’t the first term that came to mind about this girl, so I looked at the blouse again. The. It appeared that my quiet sojourn at the lodge (notwithstanding the hunters, who'd left the afternoon before) was over.And in their entrepreneurial way the resort's management, apparently not satisfied with what God was providing, was helping nature along. The snow-making machinery I'd glimpsed along the edges of the hitherto barren ski slopes was now blasting away at full force. By the time this early-season arrival of winter chill was over they'd have a "base" on their hills sufficient to. More

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