Home Is Where the Objects Are

Yes, home is where the heart is but more so, home is where the objects are. Take any one of these items out of my parents’ house and put them and me in the jungle in Borneo and I would cry ‘Home!’

Exhibit A

The Glass Percolator: It replaced the other glass percolator that cracked when Ciocia Felicia left it on the burner and got distracted in the cellar. The broken one had been a replacement for the two other burned out metal tea kettles before it.
      *I have burned through one tea pot so far. Is this genetic?    

 

Exhibit B

Dad’s Mug – Perhaps the most sacred dishware in the house. No one can say exactly when Dad starting using it, only that it has surpassed 30 years for certain, if not more. Many have let out a gasp letting it slip from their hands into the sink and sometimes the floor, yet it remains whole. I fear that my Dad will give up drinking coffee and tea altogether if it breaks.
He claims this one holds the heat.

 

Exhibit C

The Stray Paper Towel – A gently used paper towel left on the counter for second use. This used to drive me crazy, until I found myself doing it recently too. Just like freezing bread and burning through tea pots, I am genetically programmed to saving a stray paper towel. Said paper towel is usuallysharing counter space near an apple, tomato or onion.

 

Exhibit D     

THE TV

 
Either on loud or not at all

• Home Shopping Network- My mother and Ciocia Fela cannot get enough of the jewelry. Hours of it. If Home Shopping Network is crack then Mom and Ciocia like to free-base.

• The Spanish Channel- watched most by Ciocia who speaks the least English in the house. When I pointed out that she doesn’t speak Spanish she shrugged and said, “They sing nice.”
     *I watched a little bit of Bourne Identity on the Telemundo channel the other day and thought her.

 

 

Exhibit E


The Thermometer– So vital to the house’s bio dome operations, we have two of them, one outside and one inside. I don’t know why, but like wanting to have our clocks set to Greenwich Mean Time, my father needs to know the temperature.

 When I visit my parents, I expect to see these things. Though I wonder if the percolator’s days are numbered. While it’s my family I come home to visit, these objects let me know I’m home.

Special Thanks to my brother Adam who went on a mission to my parents house yesterday morning to take some photos for me. It was good for me that it was a too windy fishing day for him.