So long Frank

I see that Pope Francis got a promotion today. He was 88. He’s now resting for eternity, on the knee of his invisible friend. I was wondering if that new Catholic convert, JD Vance will be the next in line for the top position though he was, suspiciously, one of the last people to visit the pontiff. Mirinda reckons that Trump might want the job, but I said he’d have to quit the White House first, something he’s vowed never to do.

Nothing otherworldly happened to us today. We checked out of our Boho flat and headed to Stockholm central for the long journey home. Though, before we left, I popped up to a nearby Coop to replace a few things we’d used during our stay.

It was while I was walking up the road that I spotted a plaque which explained the rather odd doors in the rock wall by the path.

It used to be a nuclear command centre bunker, built in 1943 for the Swedish Civil Defence Forces. It is now a very secure data centre. I’m not sure how secure it is given there’s a plaque outside telling everyone what it is. Unless, of course, it’s a sort of strange double bluff.

I mentioned it at lunch and Jonas explained that Sweden had started to join the planet’s nuclear weapons programme but then stopped. This was mainly because the Americans told them to.

The discussion was had during lunch. KSP very kindly invited us to lunch after, equally kindly, picking us up at the station on the way home. I was particularly grateful because I didn’t really feel like cooking. Or shopping.

Karl Fredrik was also still there, which gave Mirinda the opportunity to grill him some more about his future intentions*.

Lunch was a delicious selection of various Easter dishes, including an antique cake. Which was surprisingly tasty.

All up, we spent a delightful couple of hours, chatting and mostly laughing before gathering the girls, their weekend luggage and heading for home where I collapsed, exhausted. I should explain.

Earlier in the day, I’d woken up and looked at my phone to see what time it was. I thought it said 7am and was happy that I’d managed to sleep in given it was well after midnight when I’d gone to bed. I went and made a coffee and set myself up on the lounge, ready to write my blog.

It was then that I discovered that the phone had been bewitched with my wishes rather than reality. It had actually been 5am. Of course, by that time, I was wide awake. That, in turn, meant that I was finding it increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open at home. Even while watching the snooker while Mirinda was at Friskis&Svettis.

Awake or dozing, it was lovely being home, especially given the bright welcome we received from the front garden. Though, following this success, Mirinda announced that I’ll now have plant around 10,000 more for next year.

* NB: Josefine was not there. She’d gone to Barcelona to visit a friend.