Maine infected me at the age of 12, in Brunswick, on a family trip from Minnesota. The bug was more or less dormant until I moved to Boston in the late 70s, spread a little in flirtations with the mountains and lakes of New Hampshire and Vermont, and now, with the bemused tolerance of my wife Cynthia Dockrell, has set in without cure.
Clean, rejuvenated, socialized, the menagerie has returned home. They're a little lonely, to be sure, but there's the hope of another outing in ten years or so. Special Person, your place at the end of the line is really quite promiment.