Two hundred and one

I am in paradise!  Canmore, Alberta.  The mountains surround the alpine-style houses, cute main street of shops and restaurants, and beautiful green waters of the flowing Bow River.  And of course the hospitality of my aunt Lyn and uncle Ronnie who have welcomed us into their home! (And it’s AMAZING to be in a warm, soft bed!!!)

We were invited to a bbq of gourmet steak tacos at their son’s house last night.  A group of about eleven young and old hung around the fire, threw knives and axes at a chunk of wood (I wasn’t very goood – there’s not too much axe-throwing happening in Toronto to practice), drank and chatted.  The word got out that I was writing about first kisses and soon everyone was sharing their story (or trying to remember).  The more the wine flowed, the more the tales came out.  Here are some of the stories that came from this group of friends that live in Canmore and work on the Sunshine Village ski slopes:

“Katrina Malcolmson.  I was five or six.  Something like that.  It was in the basement of our day care.  She was my friend’s older sister.   Probably around eight.  It was next to a sump pump in the basement.  I was a play-a!  ‘Man, I beat up your brother!’ I thought after it happened!” – Gibby

“I was in high school.  We were a group of friends at school.”  I asked her if it was with the whole group of friends.  She blushed.  “No! His name was Jacob and we were at his house.”  – Nicola from Auckland, New Zealand.

“Lisa Phalen.  I was drunk out of my tree.  In a field.” – Jasper

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