The Road Less Travelled


Let me start by telling you what happened on Friday.  Never trust a crazy woman with large scissors who says, “Your beard just needs a bit of a trim.”

Then those fateful words, “Oops.  Well don’t worry it’ll grow back.”

IMG_01231Yep.  That’s a new hat too.  She made it.  Fits great doesn’t it.   I look ridiculous in this thing.  There was nothing wrong with the old hat.  I’ve had it for over 150 years.  My sister made me that hat.

Oh and yes that is a bicycle seat under my feet.  Oh and yes my hair is more grey than last week.  After that harrowing experience of her dressed as a Viking I am more grey than I have been my entire life.  I think it’s permanent.

So onto this mornings antics.  She stuffs me in her pocket and takes me along on a bike ride.  “Come on,” she says.  “It’ll be fun,” she says.  Tell me folks.  Do I look happy?


Oh and why are my pants pulled up over my face?  Well when your hurtling down a bike path surrounded by trees, fields and swamps there are any number of creatures that can fly into a screaming open mouth.  Enough said?


I just hope I survive another week.

Signed the displaced Swedish Tomte with no name.



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