Its been almost a month since we moved back to Maine. I'm not going to lie, the first night was awful. The kids and I arrived close to midnight and the house was locked. We broke in through the shed and collapsed into the available beds. I had planned ahead and packed sheets for the kids and settled them into the nice bed. But I slept on the hard futon with musty sheets I found in a box packed 2 years ago. It was a miserable night and I barely slept haunted by the memory of our comfy bed in Berlin and wondering what the fuck we had done. However, outside of recalling that first night to write about it here, it is now a distant memory. We are still on the hard futon, but the sheets are washed. The house is taking much longer to put back together than I imagined and we are playing musical beds and don't have enough chairs, but it feels like home. It is hot and humid in a way we had forgotten and Maine is wilder than we had remembered. There are lots of bugs everywhere and the kids are covered in mosquito bites. But I have a conversation with someone outside of Lars, Frida and Benno everyday. I come home to our driveway filled with friends cars and kids playing in the house and on the lawn. We've been to our favorite places and spent lots of time at the lake. Maine is special in the summer time, so we are enjoying ourselves. I haven't been taking as many pictures as I'd like but as we get more and more settled I hope to remedy that.
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