My Mountain of Mistaken Memory

That's a picture of my daughter at a ski lodge in Colorado. I wanted to use the one of her playing in the snow with Pikes Peak in the background but for some reason, after spending what seemed like 4 hours looking for that particular photo and finding every other photo from that trip, I couldn't find that one. But I love this picture. She's wearing her Snoopy sweatshirt that says "Wild Child." I thought that was such a perfect shirt.
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Thanksgiving weekend 1987, my first husband, my second husband-to-be, Kate and myself went on a road trip to Colorado to visit my second husband-to-be's sister who was my best friend. Confused yet? Anyway the sister, who deserves a whole paragraph to herself lived in Colorado Springs.
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I can't think of a good pseudonym for the sister because her name is too interesting to match. She was strikingly gorgeous, with a sort of mint green crystal-colored eyes. She had a Master's Degree in engineering. She was an artist, played guitar, piano, and sang like an angel. She also could fly an airplane. I think she wore a size 2. She was also very athletic and ran marathons, played softball and was quite competitive at mixed gender fun sports like bowling and pool. And she could sew. You are probably just as confused as I am that she and I became best buds.
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Anyway, the four of us drove up to the sister's house in Colorado on Thanksgiving day. The driving part went very well because I had come up with a great driving rotation plan. All three adults alternated driving. The rotation went tlike this: Driver moves to passenger seat, backseat rider sitting next to three-year-old becomes driver, passenger seat person moves to backseat. It made brilliantly perfect sense. The person who had just driven needed to relax (passenger seat) and the person that had been in the backseat "entertaining" the kid was ready to drive. That was quite a crazy trip because we ran into some sort of highway bandits on a long deserted stretch of empty Texas highway. I don't think they were expecting someone like my first husband though. It was one of those deals where they feign car trouble and we stopped and it was all blizzardy. My second husband-to-be, being a meeker sort and very bright, picked up on something right away, and after telling my first husband, who had a child in the car, got his own hackles up, and we made our escape.
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We got to the sister's house late that night and had a fun party time. I guess we left the next day to drive up to the ski place. I had no interest in skiing. I had a bad skateboard accident in college and equated that in my mind with skiing so Kate and I spent the afternoon in the ski lodge while my two ex-husband's, my ex-best friend (the sister) and her guy pal went skiing.
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I am having a hard time telling this story because there is a lot of story to this story and yet nothing so far has anything to do with the story that I am trying to tell.
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Hmmmm. I had just typed some very deep stuff right here, but blogger blorggled on me and I am going to take that as a sign not to post that stuff. Anyway, I got way off track and the original story about my mistaken memory was light and goofy and I'll tell that part tomorrow.