"THE" Wedding with a capital “THE”

Hoo boy it has been a while since I scribbled a few notes for the enjoyment of all three of my blog readers, and there has been a LOT of water under the bridge as it were, including two hundred and sixty MILES of Athabasca River directly under my pink little bottom.  But I am getting somewhat ahead of myself.....

I believe it was around two weeks ago that I arrived back in Calgary to Gabrielle and Clarence’s Oasis and made preparations to drive yet many more hours north and east from Calgary to the town of St Paul, Alberta.  My aim in doing so was to attend the wedding of a young friend of mine, who also happens to be the middle son of one of my absolute best buddies in the whole world.

So Marcel and his wife Diane have been dear friends of mine for decades.  There is a saying that a person makes friends for a season, a reason, or a lifetime.  These two are lifers, and I have also known their three sons since they were very young.  In fact if memory serves me I have known their youngest son Luc since he was just a gleam in his parents’ eyes.  The two older sons, Phil and Marc, have been amongst my hunting and fishing companions on more than a few adventures.  And their “Uncle Doug” had a few opportunities to pass along some wisdom over the years, whether their parents may have approved or not.  (Luc, being younger, did not have the same opportunities to receive Uncle Doug’s advice, which probably explains why he is such a healthy, well-adjusted young man.)  It is worth noting here that Diane has “the look” which is supposed to stop a person dead in their tracks.  It apparently has some efficacy with her men-folk but I am impervious to it.  “The look” bounces off my Impermeable Anti-Look Shield like water off a duck’s back.  Speaking of which we shot some ducks today.  But I digress.  Again.

So anyways this whole family is very near and dear to my heart and when Marc announced that he was going to get married out in Alberta this fall I told him I would do my best to attend.  I was planning this trip so it was at least possible, but if I had been drawn for a Yukon moose tag the timings may not have worked.  I did not get drawn for said tag so I could make the timings work, and so I did exactly that.

I believe I may have remarked a number of times that Google Maps have estimates for how long it might take the average driver to cover a given route.  These estimates are fairly good in southern Ontario, but bear no resemblance to MY reality out in Western Canada.  So you can make Calgary to St Paul in five hours, yeah right, it was a very full day of saddle time before I finally arrived at Iron Arse Campground in the town of St Paul, which was to be my home for the next couple nights.  (Note to self, that may not be the exact campground name but it is close.)  And who should be pulling in at the same time as Ian and Tamara, old friends from Meaford and whom I also visited in Cold Lake in 2011 on my last GWRT.  These would be the evil people who introduced me to jello shooters aka electric jello at that time and for which sin I have almost forgiven them.  We had a chance to get re-acquainted over a beverage, they went downtown for a bite to eat, and I retired to my camper to put my head down for a bit.  Later that evening we went out to the hotel where Marcel and Diane were hosting an after-rehearsal party, but I did not last very long until it was bedtime for bonzo once again.

It  seems to me I may have done something that next morning, possibly that was when I wrote my last blog entry, but anyways the appointed hour arrived and we went to the church for a lovely wedding service.  This may have been the only church service I ever attended where I knew NONE of the hymns/songs/tunes.  But perhaps that is just as well, no sense having my booming baritone drown out the priest and soloist! Marc and Michelle made a lovely couple and they did have a lovely wedding service.   There were pictures afterwards on the church steps, including one or two taken from a drone of the assembled multitude.  I seriously wished I had my trusty shotgun to blast it out of the sky, which I think would have been fun, but anyways that would probably have put a damper on things and a dent in my wallet.  And my shotgun was back at my camper anyway.

There was some time to kill before the reception and dinner and I have a feeling I may have taken a nap, but I honestly have no recollection any more.  Perhaps that was when I started to read a book my folks had given me, and indeed I think that was the case.  The book “Goon in the Block” by Don Edy, recounts his exploits as a WW II fighter pilot and, after he was shot down, as a prisoner of war.  It is a very god read, and I recommend it.  The ingenuity of the POWs as related in the book is eye-opening.

And then it was off to the reception at the local Ukrainian hall! Yippee!!!  The bar was open and tickets were purchased, and then I found my seat.  The lady to my left, “JO” was snacking on a bag of candy, which I thought was somewhat unusual, but anyways if somebody wants to consume candy with their pre-dinner drinks what do I care?  We had a delicious buffet supper, some folks availed themselves of the desserts, and then Jo told me that there was a “CANDY BAR” at the front.  Now this is not a candy bar like the Americans wrongly call a chocolate bar.  This was a self-serve candy buffet, which was very popular indeed with the younger folks present.  And I do not (thankfully) have a sweet tooth but decided I wanted to see what a Candy Bar looked like and wandered over to inspect this phenomenon.  There was nothing that really called my name but I took a red-coloured “gummi” type candy, chewed it and swallowed it.  I did not crunch down on anything hard, but soon discovered that the sticky candy had pulled a large filling and gold crown out of my jaw, and I had swallowed it.  Now I have a gaping hole in my yap and I am a very long way from my dentist back in Kingston................but of course I could just recover the gold crown and filling once it passes through my system, then get some Krazy Glue and put it back.  After a bit of a wash of course.

So did you ever watch your <<<ahem>>> movements to see if there was any gold in them?  Me neither.  And I am here to tell you that all that all that glitters isn’t gold, all that doesn’t glitter is neither gold nor is it treasure, and I believe my crown is now in the “black water” tank on my camper.  May it rest in peace once it is in turd, or I mean interred.

The best defence against a toothache may be white wine with ice cubes.  Or at least that was the theory I decided to test.  It worked just fine.  But rumour has it that some older person at the reception did a Jumpin’ Jack Flash imitation to a couple songs (Led Zeppelin Black Dog and Lover Boy Turn me Loose).  And the next morning I found I had pulled a ham-string and had a VERY cranky neck and back.  It was a hurtin’ unit that limped back to Calgary on Sunday, and it took me nine hours to get back to the Oasis.

Once back in Calgary I was able to get in to see a dentist to put a temporary filling in my mouth, which has not yet fallen out!  And it was time to prepare for my Athabasca River jet-boat adventure with old buddy Herb.  THAT epic odyssey will form the subject of my next post.  And I am still behind about a week and a half........

I DO have a few pictures from the wedding and reception, but now I cannot even load them, this is just such a PITA>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Doug