I just had to reply to her "As the saying goes...you can take me out of New York, but you can't take New York out of me!" Ain't it the truth? Was b in NYC, and lived most of my adult life on Long Island. After I'd moved to Washington State in 1984, on my first flight "home," I had such a strong feeling well up in me as we flew over the city and LI to land at JFK. My emotions were screaming "It's my HOME!" and all the love and longing welled up in me. Funny, though, as soon as we landed, that feeling was all gone. But I still love it when I return, and though, now living in CA, I feel very happy and comfortable, I'm still a New Yorker. I guess we never lose that feeling for where we were born or grew up. I noticed a few months ago that over the years I've written 2 fiction tales and many brief memoirs of living in that Victorian mansion over Port Jeff harbor. Why? I wondered. Came across a fascinating book by Clare Cooper Marcus, House as a Mirror of the Self, Exploring the Deeper Meaning of Home. And isn't that, in a sense, why we do genealogy? To know our roots, where we came from? Jean - having "perched" happily in beautiful Washington state, and now in California.