Monday, June 13

Canmore dreams

I thought this was going to be about tree down at the river. And - in brief - know that we are mourning the loss of 2 more trees (3 if you count the one that got creamed...but it was a strange little tree anyway) at the Riva Howse. But there are several silver linings.

It did not fall on the house.

It did not fall on any vehicles.

It didn't destroy the launch pad for the rope swing.

But since the rope swing was in tree #2...moot point at best. Perhaps a diving board? Oh no...I said it. We are going to need some signed waivers.

And there was an excellent crew that cleaned up the debris this evening. And Trudy brought ziti.

So - this could have been a blog about the trees.

But then something cool happened when I pulled in the driveway a few minutes ago.

I checked my phone (because we DON'T do THAT while driving!!) and saw that I had reconnected with an incredible friend from the past. Cool guy. Great smile. And can play the guitar. And he's about 7 feet tall. Just an impressive person - physically and in every other way.

Met him when I went to visit Canada. (not when I was 5, but more recently) I went to visit two of my non-biological brothers who had moved out west. I had never been to the Canadian Rockies before. Heck - I hadn't even been to the lamer version here in the states. (kidding!) And I found a spiritual home. Canmore, Alberta.

Anyway - reconnecting with my friend tonight brought back a thousand memories of my time there. Which - if you measure by only a few. Let's see - the first trip was 10 days. I thought that was going to be plenty of time. Wrong. The second trip was the entire month of October the next year. I thought that was going to be plenty of time. Wrong again. The most recent trip (which was far too long ago) I think I was gone for 6 weeks, give or take a day.

Drove a big brown conversion van up to New Brunswick to pick up one brother, John. We drove to their biological parents' house in Ontario (driving through Quebec was strangely disconcerting...all the signs in French. It made me oddly queasy) and then Dan flew from his place in British Columbia so he could take his motorcycle out west. This way we could all sleep in the van - so he'd be able to do the trip on cheap.

The next nine days are worth a post or two of their own sometime...but it's getting late.

Tonight I shall be dreaming of Canmore. And the mountains. And the Caesar salad at the Sherwood House. And the freaky colors of the water up there. And competing with Dan to see who could top each other in the kitchen. And watching my friend fall in love with bbq sandwiches (he always ate the first one right over the crock pot). And the hot springs that were out in the middle of nowhere. And ketchup chips.

Ask Dan where my dang ketchup chips are....

Sweet dreams, eh?

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