A soaking wet winter rain...the worst weather at Frost Valley. When you're on the staff, you're outside a lot, inevitably, and you get chilled to the bone. No sitting around the fire in the dining hall for you.And on such Friday or Saturday nights we felt compelled to deliver firewood to all the lodges. On a night like this folks should at least be able to warm themselves in their own places. A little camp in spite of the weather...or in fact because of it.
And someone has to bring the wood. Someone has to get utterly soaked bringing it. Someone--it's Carl Hess, of course, standing in the second-floor foyer of the Castle--someone brings the kindling and some newspaper too. Someone flashes a broad smile despite the discomfort.
Someone loves us all.
