Kneeever been better!

Alex is right.  We should blog more about the late Mr. Updike!  So, since we’re talking about rabbits, oxycontin, hydrocodin, phenergan (for nausea) have kept this rodent living, loving, and living although he is no longer running.

 

Surgery (if you don’t know what kind, you can consider yourself worse than smithy) went well, although I discovered anesthesia makes me itchy.  Like pollen.  And cats.  I told that nurse I was allergic to cats.

 

I’ll spare you all the details, but there was a not so small (in diameter and length) hose that went under my ace wraps and into my leg a few inches under my knee that fed into a plastic container.  The container acted as a suction device that extracted the excess blood and liquids from my post surgery knee.  I would have to occasionally empty out the blood myself because blood makes Jesse feel weird.  Hassle.   

 

Rehab has been getting pretty intense and not as fun as I imagined it would be.  My exercises are simple, but painful enough to make me appreciate my patella and my brand new anterior cruxiate ligament.  This rabbit’s redux has been going well though.  To prove it, let me tell you about my visit to the doctor’s office last week.  My doctor is a very kind man and extremely encouraging.  He told me warmly that I’d be off my crutches by this weekend.  Bullshit, I said in reply.  And instead I got off my crutches two days ago.  So far, I’m 3 days ahead of schedule.   

 

I’ve included my knee log.  It is based on the degree to which I can bend my knee.  Golf rules apply.  

 

5/19: 180 degrees. (Perfectly straight)

5/20: 150 degrees.

5/23: 120 degrees.

5/24: 150 degrees.  (I dropped a bottle on my knee.  Hurt like hell.)

5/28: 100 degrees.  (The day I got off the crutches)

5/30: 89 degrees. (Andy’s birthday)

 

Additionally, I’ve watched the entire first season of Arrested Development, hung out with Jesse (age 9) a lot, and watched full seasons of Hannah Montana, The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, and an assortment of Disney made for TV movies.  I’ve also been managing my WebKinz account on the side.

 

Thanks to everyone who prayed for me.  I love you guys and can’t wait to see most of you in College Station soon.

May I leave you with this:

"I knew three things.  Edward was a vampire.  Edward wanted insatiably to kill me and drink my blood.  And, I knew I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him." 

-Girl from Twilight regarding Edward after their 3 day acquaintance

My teen angst was a little different, but still relatable.

-Rabbit

2:15 College Station, Texas

Believe it or not after you left, there has not been too much to blog about. I decided to spare you what I learned during hours spent watching Planet Earth (did you know a blue whale's heart weighs 5 tons!), and what roads are currently closed for the never ending construction that defines transportation in college station (Highway 6 south near the rock prairie exit) .

The one speck of excitement on a horizon of mundane has been my father. As many of you know the man borders on paranoid at best. He has been trying to bribe me into taking a concealed handgun course all summer and is also the man who gave me my100,000 watt taser for my birthday, did I mention he also owns one?

The other day, in an overtake of paranoia my dad started to question the actual effectiveness of his taser and decided a performance test was necessary. Naturally the best place for such a test was the laundry room. Despite my mother's pleas of "don't be an idiot, Harry!" my dad tasered simply the TOUNGE OF HIS TENNIS SHOE. I heard a quick swear word from my father a scream from my mother and then a deffining crash (imagine dave's sound effect reindition of a refriderator falling down a mountain and landing on another car). What I walked in on was my dad laying spread eagle against a washing machine slammed halfway through the laundry room wall. Turns out the shock had sent him flying straight into the machine wich inturn had gone almost straight through the wall. My dad laid on the floor laughing for about 5 min. (I think to hide the fact that he couldn't get up). Apparently, he was unable to feel his fingers and toes for the rest of the night. My mom spent the remainder of the evening trying not to laugh and repeteldy reminding him that he was in fact, an idiot.

Dave I completely concur, we should spend as much time with our parents, "They are really interesting" but i don't know if I can say that "they always know more than we do"

katherine

Ich verstehe nur Bahnhof

An excerpt full of excerpts, read as you will:

May 20 , German Dance Lessons

At about 1 am in the student-club "Das Ding" ('The Thing') hanging out with my new friend Melanie on her birthday, and dancing next to my boy, Florian, to the Backstreet boys, I realized some cultural differences you should know about.

First, it is acceptable to dance by yourself in a corner even if you aren't waiting on your friend to get back from the bar. Second, a group of guys can still freak dance each other for a fifteen second gag as we (atleast I) used to do in high school. Third, if the music gets a little slow, it is acceptable to link arms with all your friends and sway back and forth in a circle. Fourth, if a rock song or another difficult-to-dance-to song is played, it is lots of fun to try and waltz to it!


May 25 , Hot Trains and Crazy Kings

Despite the great advances in alternative energy and energy policy in Germany, they still can't afford to air condition their trains (thank God in your prayers tonight for America's coal plants, I'll clarify later if you want). Thus Katie (who flew in on the 23rd) and I arrived in Fuessen Germany a bit hot and bothered. Two days later it was foggy and 50 degrees though, so we forgave Germany.

We saw the iconic castle, Neuschwanstein, (which means New Swan Stone) built by Ludwig the Mad. Swans were his favorite animal, and he also liked Lederhosen and Dark Beer, and looking at the Alps from his castle window. Anyway, Ludwig was assassinated by his psychiatrist in the middle of a Lake (for the good of the kingdom of Bavaria) but his castle remains one of the most famous in the world. All you Disney World people - does it look familiar?


May 28 , Glockenspiel and Mass

Glockenspiel - a large clock tower with dancing figures and bells (but no clock).
Mass - a large beer stein holding a whole liter of German Beer


Katie and I witnessed both of these large things in our trip to Munich. The glockenspiel takes 8 minutes and the Mass about an hour, but both leave you a little disoriented. For anyone seeking a cultural, historic, fun, clean, safe and beautiful city, visit Munich at least once in your life. It is a tie for my favorite city with London.


May 30 , Home in Hennef

And now we sit in the Kossmanns wonderful home, soon to play a rousing game of settlers of catan - a game I will bring home for us to all learn and enjoy together for hours of revelry and laughter. As captivating as four on a couch, brainy as Catch Phrase, and Strategic as Risk. Think about it.

To all our friends - we both miss you dearly. However I miss everyone about 11 days more than Katie does, if you were wondering.

To Texas - despite the great weather, I miss the Texas heat and swimming now and again.

To all those hitherto associating with squirrels, badgers or other animals - You may be drinking too much coffee and sitting too many hours in the dark corner of Starbucks with a raised eyebrow at all the animals. Be careful.

And to all who read this, Tschuess, Caio and Auf Wiedersehen.

With Love,

Thomas and Katie

Another Texas Escapade

It is 5:34 PM in Fort Worth, Texas



It is my pleasure to return to our omnipresent blog. I just got back from camping with my dad at a place called Caprock Canyon. It is just another checkpoint on my mission to discover all things great about our oh so great state.

I decided about 3 months ago that I wanted to take a trip with my dad because I felt like I was coming to a place where I was really starting to appreciate everything my dad has done for me and I wanted to just hang out with him for a while and soak in more of his fatherly wisdom. So, after talking for about 3 hours this past Friday night, we decided to go a place called Caprock Canyon State Park in the panhandle of Texas. We figured it wouldn't be too crowded and it wouldn't be too far to drive, but the scenery would still be amazing. We were right.



We got there on Sunday morning and began our hike to our primitive campsite with a thunderstorm threatening. We started on our 7 mile hike around 4 PM. We had seen a little spot on the map about halfway down the trail called "FERN CAVE". My dad made some corny joke like "Man, Fern must have done something amazing to get this cave named after her..." I replied that maybe there were ferns in the cave. But after being sucked dry for about 2 hours and seeing nothing but cactus, red dirt, and mesquite trees, we figured there was no way in hell that there were anything even resembling ferns in a place whose annual rainfall is probably beat out by College Station's humidity on any given day. Sure enough though, as we approached the sign that said "Fern Cave", we could see different shade of green up ahead. We walked into what was really more of an overhang than a cave. The walls were covered in ferns hanging upside down and there was water dripping out of the walls. It was like we walked into a rainforest in the middle of the desert. I guess because we did. It was gnarly. We hung out there for a while and then hiked back to our campsite.

Another cool experience of the trip was the lightning. Every night when the sun went down, there was lightning on the horizon. You could barely ever hear any thunderor feel any rain , but there was always lightning. That was cool. I also almost stepped on a rattlesnake. I also almost fell off the roof about two weeks ago while cutting down a tree (that's kind of beside the point, but I thought y'all might like to know).

I could write more, but that would be too much. I just wanted to write about the Fern Cave because it was so weird. The trip was a great experience overall. I had a blast with my dad. We talked about tons of things. The topics included but were not limited to:

1. Switzerland
2. Psychic powers
3. The United States transportation system
4. Indians
5. Presidents
6. Spinal Tap
7. The effect of refrigerated air on South Texas lifestyle
8. Lobotomies
9. Human reflexes
10. Peanut, Canola, Vegatable, and Olive oil
11. Popcorn
12. A gravity-suspended, earth-circumventing bridge (thank you Thomas)
13. Dream analyzation
14. Space stations
15. Different cooking properties of Cedar vs. Mesquite wood

In all, it was an awesome experience. I am lucky to have a dad like I do, and I suggest to all of you out there to hang out with your parents a little more and learn as much as you can from them, because they really are interesting and know a lot more than we do. Until my next hospital visit,

Dave "an alive and kicking squirrel" Burkett

A Heartbreaking Letter about Squirrels

It's 11:10 A.M. at The Bookstore.

Dear Everyone*,

The recent dearth of posting has been, at the very least, deplorable. "Execrable" may perhaps be more fitting, but I found "reprehensible" too kind for you villains. Indeed, each one of you is behaving like a gluttonous story-squirrel, burying away the chestnuts of narrative under the cold snows of selfishness. How am I to know, squirrel-friend, about the health of your whiskers? Or about the bushiness of your tail? For all I know, your respective trees have been logged and shredded, and you and your squirrel-family lie flattened on a highway, your once glossy fur now imprinted with the cruel treads of a tire. I can no longer stand the sense of abandonment. Therefore, I have decided to find new friends.

Looking around the bookstore, I see a myriad of options. First, there is Richard, who, like a wise and friendly badger, serves my coffee every morning with gentle questions and sound advice. Richard's flattop and his penchant for hearty fruits (he is always trying to sell me a fruit salad, which I occasionally buy) add to his badger-like appearance. Additionally, most of the badgers I have known allow me to write reviews for the books in their stores. Richard has kindly chosen to do the same, showing him a true badger. He is option #1.

My second candidate for friendship is a woman I shall call Luna, though I do not know her name. From time to time, Luna meets older, wealthy white women in the café and speaks Spanish to them for an hour or so. I assume that they are paying her for her services, though it is possible she is just extremely friendly. She is a lovely woman and says "¡muy bien!" so emphatically, and with such an encouraging warmth, that I have chosen to think of her as a golden retriever. Every thirty seconds or so, she must fetch the wayward sentences of these women and bring them back, clutched gently between her jaws to the mesa. She reminds me of someone I used to know, before the great blog-nut-fallout of 2009, but the name escapes me. She is option numero dos.

Another bookstore employee, Kathy, also promises potential. So often I have seen her fluttering about her corner of the store, taking frightened customers under her wing and gossiping loudly about the books she's read lately. This practice is made all the juicier by the area in which Kathy works: Romance Novels. The entire section is labeled "Kathy's Picks," because she has read every book, cover to glossy cover. Because of her rapid head-movements and feathered gray hair, Kathy reminds me most of a woodpecker. I have considered re-naming her section "Kathy's Pecks," but Richard has not yet granted me this measure of power. He will soon see reason. She is option # 3.

So, squirrel-friends, if any of you are indeed still alive, I would consider your advice regarding my new companions. They seem like lovely people, the lot of them, and I'm sure that once we start chatting about John Updike's recent demise, the conversation will keep flowing, like a stream of pecans from a nut-laden tree.

Post, or I'll Flatten You Myself,

-A.

* This excludes you, Smithy.

21.25 Uhr auf Deutschland

Guten Tage Alles,

Ich bin jetzt sicher in Deutschland, und auch sehr muede. Jetzt schlafe ich.

Bis Morgen,

Thomas

And then there was one.

11.31 am: Right where I should be.

Now that finals are done and summer has officially begun, it's time to ask my favorite question again: what time is it where you are? It seems like it has been a lot less than a year when we sat around arguing whether we should call this blog "The Peda-files" or "Home Keys on the Left Hand" or something to do with Pangea (possibly my personal favorite.) Either way, the year is over and here we are again. I know that some people, including myself, have the distinct privilege of being in school for an extra year but no matter how you look at it, this is the last year where things will be how we have known them to be.

After this year, people start heading off in their own directions, getting jobs, getting married, or just getting old. All three for some.

After this year we will look back and say: "Remember when we were in college?" "Remember when we used to have pizza parties just because we could?" "Remember the foam party?" "Remember doing nothing all the time and thinking we were stressed?"

After this year afternoon naps become a thing of the past. (Unless you work for Google or Zappos, that is.)

So this year let Facebook talk to itself, let the rest of the Internet suck someone else's soul, and give your TV a break. Instead, let's make this year the year we look back on when we are old.

And with this post, let the blogging begin.


aaron