On the third day of vacation,

... my true love gave to me:

6 hours on the road,
a couple of small wrong turns,
lots of rain,
a bizarre detour,
constipation of epic proportions,
and a cabin in the woods on a lake.

John insisted we stop at this place called Inglinge Hög, which is some kind of burial mound plus stones plus ancient Germanic tribal meeting place. Or something. I can’t keep it straight. But as a sign of his incipient madness (more on this around day 9 or 10), he went out in the rain without an umbrella or coat with a hood to hike down a cowpath to find this site *in the rain*. With our digital camera. Hannah and I wisely stayed in the car playing hangman, with words like CRAZY and DAD.

Our cabin was cute and comfortable. This was not your bare bones cabin of the Texas State Park system. This was a cottage, as only Swedes can do. It was basically a home away from home, with linens on the tables, curtains on the windows, pictures on the walls, a fireplace in the living room, and a fully outfitted kitchen (plus washing machine in the store room). We just had to bring sheets and buy groceries, and we were living like kings. Plus we were out in the middle of nowhere, so it was blessedly quiet and peaceful out there. John says that if a moose had just walked past the dining room while he was eating breakfast, the scene would have been perfect.

Day 3 photos on the right.