First time I tasted a banana I was pre-school, almost or barely 5 years old, after my 23 year old mother died from ovarian cancer and we (my younger sister and brother and I) were traveling to Texas from Oregon with Grandmother B - actually a great aunt, but then family relationships are complex with all the births, deaths, marriages, etc. They were the grandest things, the bananas were, and so delicious and we were allowed seconds and thirds. It was disastrous: I became carsick etc (you won't want the whole picture).
First time occasions sprinkle our lives like early spring rain - they mostly happen early and taper off with living - the ones we remember after a while must be momentous or they would have faded. I expect memories of my first blog to fade early and painlessly.
But I must tell you, one year ago I skied down a mountain (more or less), for the first time in my some 60 odd years, and that memory will fade slowly, if at all. The vacation around the ski trip was wonderful. The ski trip down the mountain is not something I look forward to repeating, even with lessons. Some things are probably best started early (and perhaps finished early).
I still eat bananas. I no longer ski (unless she-with-whom-I-live decrees otherwise).
As of yesterday, I am a blogger. Who knows what tomorrow brings?