REPEAT WHEN NECESSARY

摘要

When i was a kid, my father used to pad around the house, silently, turning out the lights. In his wraith-like wanderings he would occasionally click off lights in rooms that were occupied. Someone-me, my brother, or my mother-would squeal at him out of the dimness, and reluctantly he would turn them back on. Our house was not only dark; it was also wintery. When less cold-adapted friends or relations came for a visit, my father would turn up the thermostat. Once they left, down it went again.