The kitchen is immaculate, even after Emie Kelstrom has made the superb farewell banquet breakfast for the three of them.
She cleans up the splashes and spills, as she makes them; she does the “dirty” dishes, as they pile up. So they don’t pile up.
The kitchen, importantly, is well-lit.
The light… Has a distinctly yellow tinge. Not of old paper yellowing with age, or of sunflowers, amusingly following the sun another long, long summer day. Nor of the sun itself, though the yellow of the sun is closest in comparison.
The light bulb, from the ceiling where it shines, will not be subject to jettison.
Spam of Human Affection 
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