This was me circa 1978 and I was 3 years old.
My parents still lived together and I have almost exclusively happy memories from that early age. We spent the summers on our boat, Tuff, where the “ship-rat” left us sweets once we were on our way out into the stunning Stockholm archipelago.
We explored islands and my dad used to call the excursions “huppigupptäcksfärd” which roughly translates to “bouncy exploration” as I usually sat on my father’s shoulders.
Me and my sister played Indians and cowboys..well mostly Indians actually as they were much cooler in general. Dad made us crossbows and slingshots and my mum fried endless numbers of pancakes for us in the tiny galley of our boat.
Needless to say that I loved it and those were really happy times.
Things changed and more challenging times came later on, but I was none the wiser sitting there in my dark green sou’wester.
I tend to forget about the happy times of my childhood more often than I like to admit.
Why do I hang on to sadness instead of embracing the happy memories?
I work every day to make happy memories together with my children and my husband.
Family is everything to me so why not relive the happy times more often?
I´ll make time to scan all those pictures of during that time and make that album.
Plan made. Execution coming riiiiight up.
I have plans to execute and bullet-coffee to sip.
Until later dear friends. Until later