Few things in life make a home and its occupants feel more cozy, content, and relaxed than a fire in the fireplace on a snowy Rochester evening. In the days before cellphones and video games, our family would end many a day in the living room of our Home Acres house—reading books or magazines (maybe the previous Sunday’s New York Times), doing the crossword puzzle together, or lazily chatting about the day behind us or the one coming up—usually with classical music on the radio or stereo … The combination of physical and emotional warmth was so comforting, especially after a hard day of work (Dad, a physician and medical educator), putting up with three teenagers (Mom), or needing respite from mockery and bullying at school (me). The outside world would melt away in the flicker of fireplace flames and the sense of protection and safety with family.
Of course, even the wonders of a blazing fireplace can come with their little negatives. Being asked to go down to the basement for logs was torture: The closet with the firewood was dark, dank, and at least in my mind, full of bugs — primarily spiders, which I was terrified of and still am, at least somewhat. Even without seeing or feeling them, I always knew they were there, crawling around on the logs and edges of the shelves in the space. However, I didn’t want to seem uncooperative or cowardly, so I would go ahead and inch my way down the stairs to the basement and into the firewood closet but dreaded the request. More than fifty years later, I still don’t like going into spaces that might harbor bugs and am not sure I’ll ever use the fireplace in my new home!
This article originally appeared in the January/February 2026 issue of (585).
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