PAPERWORK: In your house where is your living room?

What you are reading right now is a dispatch from my den.

Ahhh, my den. (More on that in a bit, but first a question.)

I wonder how much living do we really accomplish in our living room?

(Yes, my mind wanders in weird directions.)

I had this thought while on the couch where I always sit. (See indentation for verification.)

In our living room. Spacious. Large couch (super comfy). My legs stretched over a large ottoman. Couple cushy chairs also in the room with side tables and lamps.

And — this is important — a large screen TV atop a wide sideboard.

The TV monument dominates the wall opposite where we sit.

The fact is ... most any week ... my wife and I are in designated positions every evening enjoying TV.

That’s what living means in our living room. Most of the time.

If we had guests, we should accurately say, “Come. Join us in our TV room.

”But ... we call it a living room. More proper. And easily understood.

Which avoids confusion when we have to shout that invitation because everyone has gathered in another room.

That’s right ... the kitchen.

Where everyone huddles ... chatting, toasting, nibbling and enjoying each other.

Sort of like ... living. Thaaat’s right. The kitchen is more like a living room. And what does kitchen mean anyway?

Bit of etymology now: Kitchen is a word that has roots in several other languages, all tied to cooks and cooking.

But we don’t call it a cooking room and never call it a dining room. (Even though that’s where we eat most of the time.)

Sometimes there’s logic in how we label rooms in the house.

Bedroom. No doubts there. That’s where the bed is. Have some fun now and then and call it the sleeping chamber or... no, I’ll stop there.

Or how about the garage? An important “room” with many houses.

More etymology: the noun garage comes from the French word meaning shelter for a vehicle or place for storing something.

Now that’s funny. Think about it. Your garage. Can you actually get a car inside?

Garages tend to be a place for storage. Many things. Stacked on top of many things.

If your garage holds a car (or two), then congrats. You did it! (Although I bet every corner is jammed.)

Now the den. I saved this for last because the history of this word is precious.

Let me quote in part from etymonline.com, an online etymology dictionary: “Old English denn ‘wild animal’s lair, hollow place in the earth used by an animal for concealment, shelter, and security. ...

“... In Middle English: ‘secret lurking place of thieves, place of retreat’ (late 13c.); ‘apartment, private chamber’ (late 14c.), but the modern use for ‘small room or lodging in which a man can seclude himself for work or leisure.’

“By 1956, however, at least in U.S., the den had come to be a sort of family all-purpose room. In 19c. it also often had a bad sense, ‘a haunt, squalid place of retreat.’

I’d slide my yellow highlighter over these words: “lair ... shelter ... security ... secret ... retreat ... private ... seclude ... work or leisure.”

My wife likely would see the word “squalid.”

She edges in to use my computer-printer, and then slips out.

Her parting words, “How can you stand it in there?” Then she shudders and moves to safer ground.

True. There is a bit of chaos. Books stacked and leaning. Paper scattered. Stuff hanging from hooks and knobs.

It’s a busy room. Definitely decorated. Screaming my name. (Probably my true living room.)

Perhaps I should rename the room and pin the opening line of a poem to the door.

You’ve probably heard this one ...

“Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly.

LONNY CAIN, of Ottawa, is the retired managing editor ofThe Times. Email to lonnyjcain@gmail.com or mail TheTimes, 110 W. Jefferson St., Ottawa, IL 61350.