The Slow Regard of Silent Things
I have a lot of dedicated reading spots in my house. There's the papasan downstairs, where I can make a nest of pillows and blankets and curl up in the long winter months. There's the brown couch upstairs, where I have easy access to a glass of wine or cup of tea on the side table. The green couch is on the wrong side of the table for easy drink access, but it has the recliner. Upstairs there's a leather chair in my office, where I can be surrounded by books, and a second leather chair in the bedroom where I can put my feet up on the footstool. In shady summer afternoons I read out in the backyard, avoiding the sun as much as possible. Finally there's the bed, where I can drift off to sleep, sandwiched between the animals. This is, perhaps, overkill. Especially since I do the vast majority of reading on the train. But it's nice to have a different spot for each mood I'm in. And it ended up providing a nice parallel to this book, which I read while bouncing aro...