Home Is Where the 40-Watt Bulb Is

When I was growing up, living in my parents’ house, life unfolded in a pattern and with some predictable regularity.  In the evening, when dinner was over, Dad would settle down to read the paper, while my brothers, my Mom and I conducted whatever complicated negotiations were required to arrange the evening’s television viewing schedule.   Very often, all five of us would be gathered together – paper being read, some sitcom like Barney Miller on the tube – in the little family room that sat next to  the kitchen.

The Scene Tonight

The kitchen was at the back of the house and there were no streetlights nearby;  as a result, there was little or no ambient light streaming through the kitchen window or the patio door that led out into the yard.  For some reason, though, I remember a light on the Jenn Air stove very frequently being left on and bathing the room in a soft, warm glow.

Growing up with my brothers and my parents, we were fortunate enough to enjoy happy times.  When I think of that house and the time I spent living there, I have fond memories.  For some reason, one of the many mental images that springs to mind when I think of those days is the kitchen, illuminated in muted tones by the stove light.

Thirty-one years later,  I found myself  washing up some of the after-dinner dishes and putting some things away in my own kitchen.  As I dried my hands on a towel and clicked off the light switch on the wall, I turned to look over my shoulder as I was walking out of the kitchen and heading to my own family room.  We don’t have a Jenn Air, but there is a microwave suspended over our stove with a built-in light on the bottom.  it was on and casting a dull but pleasant yellowish glow on the surface of the cupboards and the stovetop below.

I smiled and headed in to the family room to watch some television with Spouse.

By junior

Guitar owner and silly person.


  1. We each pick up the strangest habits from growing up; I suspect figgy is starting to believe that the rest of the world is filled with cluttered houses, lots of random buttons and dusty electronics hanging around.

  2. I think what I get from reading your blog,is how a child can pick up, and store memories. I find it fasinating that the great presents, of your youth are not mentioned, but the homey things. I prooves to me that posessions really count for little, but small and seemingly unimportant climpses in a secure home are treasures throughout your life. Only a hint of what was, can bring that memory back. May all youngsters have fond memories…… Reminds me of, “I’ve seen fields of Green, Red Roses too…….

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