Maison sweet maison

On the way from Helena to Lethbridge this afternoon, as I helped the girls wash their hands at a truck stop outside of Great Falls, Liv looked at me with that serious look. Then she asked "Where are we again?"

Where are we? Well, after almost six months, seven countries, nine airplane rides, dozens of trains and subways, and a five hour sunny ride on a June afternoon, we are home. It feels wonderful.

Everything is so green. I know this came from weeks of not-typical downpours here, but everything is so very pretty right now. The house is in great shape -- so big! -- and also so much more filled with stuff than La Maison des Chaumes was. It was like a reminder that we don't usually carry everything we need in five suitcases. We'd need five dozen just for the books! I have a crazy desire to declutter... but I suppose I will have to unpack first.

We haven't even started unpacking. As soon as we got home, we unloaded the car, looked around, watched as the kids rediscovered a few things ("my favorite socks! I love these socks!"), and then without opening up a single suitcase, we drove over to our dear friends' home for dinner. I was teary-eyed all night -- from the hugs of kids and adults, the ease and joy of conversations, the awe of kids who have grown A LOT in six months (ours and our friends' kids) and the delight of watching them play so happily together, the laughter, the love. Jack had wanted to go to here, to Thomas and Daniel's house, first -- he said last night he would help pack the car and everything if it meant we could see them right away. Other dear friend were there, too, and it was hard to leave. Luckily, we have the whole rest of the summer ahead of us... and hopefully lots of nights like this, nights which recall the best moments in France, too.

And now the kids are settled into their own beds, and the stacks of luggage are still waiting, and I think I will go head into my own bed shortly, too. I bet it will feel good. Familiar. Like home.