Today we drove out to Åtvidaberg, about 2 ½ hours SE of Stockholm to see his grandfather and play some golf. This house was so funny, it was completely out in the country, which is beautiful I might add, but was so old, that it showed that the people of long ago were a LOT smaller than they are now. The house looked like it was miniature, Rickard’s head touched the ceiling practically. Funnier than that was the elf guesthouse that Rickard and I stayed in. It looked like a little tree house and had two beds in it, and that’s where we slept. That evening we went to the golf course to hit up some golf. Of course, for those of you who know my admired skill in sports, you know how well I played—I am just glad no one got hurt. Just another experience for my memories…