I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes a home recently. I don’t mean fancy throw rugs or sticky-fingered children (although I’d be happy with both), but that moment when you suddenly feel at home in a new place. Because I do, now, here in L.A. One minute, everything in L.A was a mix of novelty and anxiety and fun and stress. The next it was normal and, well, it was home. It’s been five months since we arrived with four suitcases and a shitload of hopes and dreams. And holy hell, it’s been full on. But we’re here, I’ve accumulated way more than I could ever fit into four suitcases and I like it. We have a cat. Two little dogs. Two…