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Our new office

Our new office.

These are some photos of my new home.

Our new bedroom.

Our new bedroom.

Our old apartment was flooded with three and a half feet of water during Hurricane Sandy.  We lost some things, gained some things, but we knew that as long as we had each other, it would be okay.  Perfecting the art of “suburban vagabonding,” we drifted from home to home in search of a place to settle down.  Now we’ve found it, we’re moving in a few days, and we can restart our lives once more.

Our new living room.

Our new living room.

A life of travel is uncertain and unstable, but that’s part of the bargain – nomading your way around the world with no expectations because it’s about the journey, not about the place.  When you know there is no home to go home to, you just keep going until you want to stop.  For us, it was different – we knew where we wanted to be, but couldn’t get there, so the uncertainty and instability was crippling. It’s not like “If Jaipur sucks, that’s okay, I’ll just head to Chennai.”  If a friend’s couch or a relative’s air mattress sucks, we had to deal with it, because we still had to go to the same job and the same school and see the same people as though our lives were never affected by a devastating act of nature.

Our new basement.  This is clearly where the disco parties are going to happen.

Our new basement. This is clearly where the disco parties are going to happen.

I’ve never thought much about the idea of “home” until I lost mine.  Like many on Long Island, all I could think of was the day I’d walk through my own door and eat dinner at my own kitchen table and read my own books again.  Simple things we take for granted.  I am happy to say our new home is even bigger and better and we are looking forward to rebuilding and we are not going to move, from the couch, or the community, for a very long time.