It’s been a while. I feel like that sentence has lost all meaning since that is pretty much how I start all blogs these days. It was never my intent to have this as a half arsed thing to add to my list of incomplete failed attempts at life, but such is.

Well, for those that haven’t seen the previous instagram posts or my husbands bi-yearly facebook status, we have relocated once again. After just shy of three years in Frankfurt, we needed a change. So we packed up our things, unsurprisingly with more than what we relocated from Australia with, and made the 4.5 hour train ride down to Berlin.

People assume that is is easier to move the second time. That you have somehow managed to find the secret to moving, stress free. While I concede that moving the second time is easier than the first, having a stress free move is about as realistic as a floating man in the sky.

Because we like to keep things interesting, the same time as we moved, we also decided to fly back to Australia to get re-married. Nothing says relaxing like coordinating friends and family for a wedding that you wanted to bail on. Our wonderful wedding photographer took a lovely candid photos of us just after we released our families back into the wild (aka free bar) and we look cooked. Done. Finito. Fertig. Mind you, this was before the ceremony even started. From start to finish for us was 6 hours, I have no idea how these couples start hair and makeup from 8am and keep going. The look on our guests faces when we casually mentioned that were just going to leg the 2km back to the hotel instead of a wedding car (do you know how much that shit costs?!) did give us the stamina to keep going after the cake ran out.

So, after a short ‘relaxing’ holiday back in Australia, we flew back and packed up what was left of our life there and moved. I will admit that having jet lag is fantastic for trying to pack up a house. Until you are so tired you lose your coordination skills and you end up breaking half of your belongings. Or waking the neighbours and then having to deal with an angry German at 03:18 because we annoyed him during his night cigarette. Not upset for waking him, oh no that would be logical. He was upset that his nightly cigarette, that occurred between 03:15-03:20 was disturbed. The look of confusion on his face when I failed to understand why he was upset (‘it’s not the noise’ he protested, ‘it is your light. It gives a slight glare and it looks like the moon on my curtains’) I’ve learnt now not to argue with a German unless you want to end up banging your head against a concrete wall.

I jest. Germans aren’t that bad. They just like their rules. And don’t like change. And will judge you for not bringing a re-usable bag.

Much love,

J x