I was thinking about a blog topic and googled a list of suggested blog topics: I told myself I would blog suggestion number 1:- and it was – Tell the Story of Your First Kiss.
So here it is.
I was attending St Marks Anglican Church in Picton and one family who attended at night was the Cooke Family. One of the daughters in that family was Tracey – who also attended the same school as I did. She caught my eye. At the time I hated horses, having been thrown by several horses and kicked pretty badly by our donkey. But Tracey loved horses and so I decided I loved horses too. Tracey and I lived 8 kms from each other and my grandparents place was exactly halfway in between. So in my fake love of horses, I asked Tracey to let me ride her horse. So we met at my grandparents place one Saturday and we didn’t really ride, but rather took the saddle off and just sat together on the horse talking as it grazed: for six hours. We were both 16. We did this Saturday after Saturday. So one Saturday, we are sitting on the horse and the horse got spooked, pig rooted and started galloping down the dirt road. (Remember we had no saddle on). So I ended up falling off one side of the horse and Tracey fell off the other side, hitting her head. She was concussed, so once I caught the horse, I walked Tracey and the horse back to her home. Once we arrived at her house, saying goodbye, I kissed her. This was my first kiss: on a poor concussed young lady.
We then dated for three years – so the kiss must have been smokin.