My plans for Midsommar had been set ages ago, thanks to my lovely mother turning 60 on the very same day as Midsummer Eve. A logistic plan of the more ambitious kind had been set up for the Thursday to be able to make it from work offshore Denmark to the summerhouse in the archipelago of Stockholm in time. Not only did it involve back-up flights and helicopters flying as planned, but also amazing friends who were willing to put up with a slightly dictating tone and airport pick-up arrangements to make it all come into action. The minute margin plan was completed when we galloped down towards the taxi boat from the car park and were the last passengers to jump on board before the boat left the harbour. Twenty minutes later we all had a glass of wine in our hands and the most Swedish weekend of them all could begin.
A weekend of eating, drinking, throwing wooden pieces on other wooden pieces, a.k.a. kubb, and of course also the traditional skipping around in a circle around a tall cross while waving our hands at our ears and singing about little frogs. Those of you who are Swedish know exactly what I mean. Trying to explain the dancing around the flower decorated midsommarstång comes through just as weird as trying describe the Lucia celebrations in December, with the boys in nightgowns and white cones on their heads. And for those of you who aren’t Swedish, I won’t even try to give you a picture of what was going on in the parks and on the meadows in Sweden last weekend. You just need to make your way over here another year and experience it together with us; Spinning around yourself while clapping over your head and running around in a circle holding hands, with flowers in your hair of course. The combination of even birthday and midsummer turned out to be a winner. Family, old friends, new friends, never-ending food and drink supply, hula-hoop performances and a jet fighter surprise, which will never be forgotten by the birthday girl, made it the most memorable midsummer ever. 
Morning swims in the bay, discussions and conversations shooting across the tables and generations, litres of coffee and heaps of sticky buns, philosophical chats while walking through the forests, sunbathing on the deck, colourful drinks and entrecotes on the BBQ, treasure hunts for drunk members of the party at early morning hours and relaxing on the cliffs by the light house while watching the boats sail past – I couldn’t have wished for more.
Morning swims in the bay, discussions and conversations shooting across the tables and generations, litres of coffee and heaps of sticky buns, philosophical chats while walking through the forests, sunbathing on the deck, colourful drinks and entrecotes on the BBQ, treasure hunts for drunk members of the party at early morning hours and relaxing on the cliffs by the light house while watching the boats sail past – I couldn’t have wished for more. 
While drinking wine and listening to the birds singing at 4 o’clock in the morning in company of the best of friends, it’s an absolute no-brainer – there’s no other place on the planet I’d rather be.
