They often say that home is where the heart is. When you move more often than you care to, do you begin to lose heart? Or, more to the point, is there a level of restlessness that develops so that home is less important than where you happen to be, such that it is with whom you are that takes on greater preeminence. For Margo and me, having just celebrated our silver wedding anniversary (against many odds, mind you, that is what Margo keeps reminding me of), setting up a new home has been a steady constant in our joint lives. Margo bears the bulk of the burden and if I had a good voice I would be singing her praises more loudly. Moving to Boulder in the mid-1990s to a front range bungalow, then to a condo by Boulder Creek before settling into our Niwot new construction we embarked on in 2000, somewhat foolishly, as it turned out. But even with the Niwot home, just a few years later we were challenged by the need to be based in Omaha and we managed to do so for a year – the commute was