A Slovenian song says that the first word of little Slovenians is not mama but rather Bojan Križaj, the blonde skier who used to win for Yugoslavia when I was little, but I’m quite sure Mama! was mine since I was lucky enough to be born near this woman who celebrates today.

Francesca at Almost Italian speaks in a recent post of how her family knits as a unit and how knitting genes have been passed from her grandmother. I commented that instead the genes on my mother’s side make me “belt out a song without prior notice, write poems for people I love, recite long dead poets when necessary or not”. I must have forgotten all the hats and scarfs you have knitted for me. So unfair! Sorry, mama!

But this was not a complaint. I love all that about us. First, a bit of soundtrack. Remember how much you loved Look what they’ve done to my song from a previous birthday post? I hope you will play this one just as much. And when I come back, we will dance.

And now some of my favourite photos of you taken since your last birthday, starting with this message to you.

And for the end, Me and My Mommy, as is the title of the bear book in this photo taken by my father in Škofja Loka. This is how I crack up.

Photo: BM

Happy birthday, mama Meta! You did well and now you can relax, stay as you are and be as you wish (=mej se, kokr se čš). I love you and salute you!

And finally, here are celebrations from past years on my previous blogs. Enjoy!


    1. Hihih, thanks for that, Dad! I’m sure it means something significant in an obscure language. Also – but don’t tell anybody – I was wrong. The text of the poem is: “In prva beseda najmlajših Slovencev naj ne bo mama, ampak RC Elan.” 😀 Not Bojan the skier (even though he is mentioned elsewhere in this song), but the first word should be the brand of skis he used to ski on. 😀 😀


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