Sunday, May 23, 2010

Fugitive Diaries: Day 12 & 13

I awoke in a room and not a train compartment. Bliss…Minus the fact that I woke up at 5:00 a.m. I was able to fall asleep for a short while longer but that didn’t last long. I knew Andrew wouldn’t even begin to stir until noon. Luckily, there were about a zillion movies which were alphabetically organized calling my name. It just so happens that I had previous knowledge of this little collection of movies and was quite excited to veg. All it took was tiptoeing through the kitchen to the door, opening the door, through the hall, another door, and BAM, there was the living room. Right when I walked through the arch way I looked to my left and the name Doris Day caught my attention. Old movies, splendid. Those movies consumed my morning. A picnic had been placed into the agenda for the evening which was accompanied by a bike ride. I had noticed that my glutemous maximus was a little tender.  The moment I sat down on the bike seat everything clicked. Blasted bikes from the previous day! Enough to say, the buns were soar. We went on a short ride to a location by a creek surrounded by trees and dirt roads. The one food product I had consumed the most was dill pickles. Not just any pickles, but Vlasic dill pickles. Yes, Sam. I thought of you the entire time.  We enjoyed our little picnic and packed up to return to the apartment. We were on bikes with baskets… which automatically triggers thoughts of the Sound of Music. A few bars were hummed and Andrew and I got to racing. Weird. We know. He was ahead of me and wouldn’t let me pass. Weird again. For a nano-second he wasn’t paying attention so I thought I would seize that opportunity. Unfortunately, he snapped back into reality and tried to cut me off. Keep in mind that we are on a dirt road. I had to swerve to the right so our tires wouldn’t collide. My tires skidded in the dirt and I ate it hard core in the field to the right of us. There was zero grace in this wreck. Zip. Zero. Nada. Ouch. The only positive thing that came out of this “accident” was that Andrew actually felt sorry and apologized. Whoa baby! An apology. Haha. Sucker. I probably should have been mad… but I wasn’t. Mildly torked…but not mad. At least my wounds drew blood. Battle wounds. I told him a little quote about payback in which he accepted. This payback has yet to be executed.. but the opportunity will present it self in the near future… We had extra bread in which we fed the mallards. Top favorite things to do: Feed Ducks. Why? I haven’t the faintest idea… I just enjoy it. When we got back, Kelley was a nurse and doctored my “owies.” I was a big girl and didn’t cry. I was rewarded with a gummy candy. Yes. I later did discover a bruise the size of Alabama on my thigh. Fantastic….



The next morning was basically a déjà vu of the previously morning…. Including Ms. Day and Mr. Hudson. Such a shame he is gay because he is SMOKIN. Quite unfortunate. I also observed dozens of photo albums within the book shelves. What is the purpose of photo albums if they are not looked at? Nothing. So I thought I would give them some attention. Chuckles. I love pictures.  Instead of a picnic, the consummation of ice cream and Italian food took place. Not any old Italian food, but the best calzone in the entire world! Before the calzone was ordered and digested, we played miniature golf. I have never, ever played mini-golf in my life. I normally despise participating in activities in which I am not good at. But even though I was quite horrible, it was actually fun. I did cheat once. Shhhh. The best part was watching Kelley beat Andrew. Muah ah ah ah ah. Later that night I had realized that I did not know anything about our flight from Seattle to Spokane since my mom had purchased the ticket. I gave her a little jingle and she sent me our itinerary. She demanded that I print it out and have it with me. I obeyed and did exactly what she told me to do. Gold star to me. Kelley was taking us to the airport the next day. No more trains, sweet. I had thought our flight left at 12:45. Wrong-o! Good thing I checked or else we really would have been super, super fugitives. That was our final night in Germany. On our journey from Greece to Germany, Drew and I were quite ready to return home to Whitman County life. But being back in Germany once again revived the feelings of not wanting to leave.

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