In Northern countries in the dead of winter, by 3.30 p.m. it’s pitch dark. You can’t give and start drinking red wine yet, though. It’s still “day” to the kids. So, we drag on the layers and march them out to Vasaparken for some ice skating. They take to it like fish to water. A lower center of gravity means bones withstand the falls. Not so for the old folks. As I step gingerly on to the ice, I realize that a helmet might be a good idea. My turn on the skates lasts no longer than 5 minutes. The kids are on the ice for as long as it takes to get to wine o’clock.
