There is one place in my house where, if you see the light on, you can pretty much be guaranteed I am practicing something.
The light is illuminating my dining room.
But my dining room is not a dining room.
My dining room, here as it also was in my former home, is my music room.
So, if you see my dining room light on I am probably practicing something.
It could be:
My Irish whistle
[This list is not in any order of preference. It just happens to be the order I see the instruments in my music room at this moment in time.]
Or any other of the 100 or so instruments that might be lying about or neatly tucked in containers.
And so, unlike Tom Bodett and Motel 6, seeing my light on in that room at night does not mean you are welcome.
I am practicing and, like most musicians, prefer to not be disturbed during my practice.
If, for some reason, you must get my attention, please wait until it seems I might be in a pause in the music.
In other words:
Do not tap on the window, ring the doorbell, or call my name if music is being played.
[Note: Whether you think it is music or not is irrelevant.]
So respect your musician friends.
They will appreciate it.