What We Chose To Put In The Room Instead
May 20, 2026
Where a TV would normally go in front of the couch, we have a 1960s-era mid century modern record player console. It is a furniture piece with the record player built in and cabinets below. Beside it is a 1960s-era hope chest filled with records. That was an intentional choice. Not because I think everyone should make the same one.
Because rooms invite behavior. In our main living spaces, we chose books, records, plants, conversation areas, and large windows that bring the outdoors in. We chose music. We chose a room that makes it easy to sit, talk, read, listen, and notice what is happening outside. The house feels different because of it. The Grateful Dead. Billy Strings. Sturgill Simpson. The Lucky Strokes. Allman Brothers. Van Morrison. Fleetwood Mac. Chris Stapleton when I want the house to slow down.
Music changes the pace of a room. It fills the space without asking everyone to stare in the same direction. It can hold a morning, a dinner, a slow afternoon, a kitchen island full of people, or a quiet evening when the windows are open. I like what records do for a house. They ask you to choose. To listen. To flip the side. To notice. That feels very different from background noise.
The choice to have no TV in the main rooms is not about making a rule for anyone else. It is about knowing what we want the room to hold. Conversation. Music. Books. Plants. The view. People lingering. Every home makes invitations. Some invitations are obvious. Some are quiet. A chair near a window invites reading. A cleared island invites gathering. A record player invites listening. A table with simple food invites people to stay a little longer.
What we put in a room matters because it shapes what happens there. In this season, I want more connection. More music. More reading. More noticing. More moments where the house slows down instead of speeding everyone up. So that is what we put in the room instead.
With love and intention,
Jennifer
