When I told her the only jacket I had with me was dark brown she popped into the back room and emerged with an orange vest; the lodge, she said, kept ... few on hand "just in case."I thanked her and took it gratefully. It would be ironic indeed to have escaped Walter and Cesar Romero both and then get shot down by some myopic weekend warrior too dim-witted to notice that his target had two legs instead of four and lacked a rack of antlers. An irony that I would definitely not appreciate.Around. Now I was depressed. I had to do something.That night I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking. Then I experienced an epiphany. Someone had said once that if you turn your play into work, you'll never have to work a day in your life. I knew just what to do for her. One problem solved; now I only had one more to work on. That one would take a little more soul searching and was a lot more unpredictable.At breakfast, on the morning of her birthday, I asked her,"How does it feel to be. More

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