A True Adventure

Trees shutter in the breeze. Delayed rain drops finally reach the ground. The tea kettle whistles a lonely cry. Squirrels drop their nuts to focus on a bigger issue at hand. Idle chit chat becomes nervous anticipation... where has That American Guy gone?

I am here! My absence from this blog has been long and I know my reader's have feared the worst. All they've had to look at for the last week or so is a Howard Stern-esque photo that frankly is not That American Guy's most flattering. But do not fret! That American Guy is back... and with a story to tell...

To Brahehus, Granna (pronounced 'gren-uh') and back...

Some time ago, That American Guy left with the Stenlund's for a road trip heading North East from Hemsjo. The morning was beautiful and the plan was set. The four gathered their things, entered a vehicle and proceeded onward. Reaching their first destination, the four laid a blanket down and settled beside the Brahehus ruins. The view was extraordinary.

The old Brahehus ruin once served as a house to a rather wealthy (and portly) fellow. Actually, I don't know if he was portly, I just like the word and prefer to see him that way. Anyway, a fire eventually led to the demise of his humble abode, leaving only this ruin and a spectacular view.Thus, Pauline and I admired some of God's handiwork.

To fully gauge the height at which we stood, that tiny white thing down and to the right of the lone tree in the field on the left... is a car.The view eventually becoming too breathtaking to... breathe... we returned to the interior.The environment, bandana and rolled up pants getting the better of me, a pirate-like persona overcame my soul. I now needed an adventurous task..."To climb!" yelled the voices in my head. And so, we did. I mean I did.Sure, the height was enough to make The Cliffhanger himself, Sylvester Stallone, cringe. But I was too determined for fear. Just pretend I'm yelling a battle cry instead the obvious truth, which is a blood curdling, "Mommy!"Naturally, my lack of skill in the sport of climbing caught up with me and I fell down all two feet from which I had climbed.As misfortune would have it, the ghosts of Brahehus are not fond of climbing, American, pirates. And thus, I was cast into their cellar.It was there that I remained for nearly a week's time, forced to keep one eye over my shoulder at all times.The Brahehus ghosts were nice enough to leave me a coffin though. I guess they thought I was either a vampire (silly ghosts) or sure to meet my demise.Either way, they were wrong...A renegade ghost took pity upon me and opened the door. I think he liked my shoes.And so, I was finally free.Feeling bad about my captivity, the Stenlund's decided to take me to Granna.Granna is home to classic cars...Elegant flowers...Friendly people... (no, his nose was not supposed to represent anything)Life-threatening polar bears...Yet more beautiful scenery...And most importantly, it is the birthplace of the candy cane. (true fact)Next time you're licking a candy cane, think of this guy. Actually, I take that back. That motto could discourage all straight, male, candy cane enthusiasts. Candy canes for all!I promise I didn't yell, "These candy canes are poison!" before this picture was taken. I dunno why those girls looked at me like that.And to end this crazy, roller coaster of a journey... we partook in a nice, quiet, dinner by the docks. Believe it or not, that beach-like scene behind us is real. Why does it look so fake?

Thanks for coming along! Ya'll come back now, ya hear?

Ugh, why did I say that?