Today is my father’s birthday, or as they say in Sweden, today he “fills 74 years.” I just phoned him. He and Eunice are staying in their holiday unit in Port Macquarie, where they have a beautiful view out over the blue Pacific.
The blue here in Örebro is limited to the sky, which is brilliant and clear. But the ground is white with another light frosting of autumn snow, the ice on bare tree branches sparkling in the morning sunlight. Blue and white, such a welcome contrast to the rainy grey dampness of the last week.
So for my dear Dad, as we say here, Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! (its always four cheers in Sweden, not three like in the English speaking world!).