Having A Name Of A Day

Today's my very own name day, according to the Swedish calender, February 22nd. At least the one of my names that begins with a "P" and ends with an "a" - and any excuse to celebrate being alive and kicking, here and now, having a name, being me is a good excuse to treat oneself to something extra.

Even if the extra of today wasn't anything very obviously extraordinary and remarkably grand, it was quite a delightful day; the sun was shining, it was definitely spring in the air - never mind a bit too much of that air in shape of relentless winds -, a nice breakfast coffee date with a friend, some browsing through shops - yup, imagine I can actually do that without feeling a need to fuel the economy - and a long walk. I even had the (dubious) pleasure of nearly being roped in and exchanged for some cattle in some remote place on the African continent. Imagine that. Or rather not.

Even if everyday is concidered a Pia-day, in my world, it is kind of pleasant to be officially acknowledged by Regnum Sueciae at least once - in my case even twice - a year. And sometimes even I am easy to please, a spot of sun, a dash of spring, a perfect day.