I'm in my thinking spot. Like Winnie the Pooh...
There's an old chaise lounge, one of those pieces you used to see in 1950s boudoirs, tucked into a corner by the fireplace in my living room. It faces the big window on the front of my house. That's my thinking place.
I bought the chaise at an antique sale. A woman from the San Juan Islands had brought over a truck load of goodies and she had the chaise front and center in her display. It was covered with a bright 1980s chintz, but underneath the the newer slipcover was the original 1940s or 50s chintz. That fabric was done in those wonderful mid-century browns and greens.
Anyway, I bought the chaise (for a very good deal) and brought it home.
and dyed the cover to soften the color.
I had it in my bedroom when we lived in the big suburban house. But, since the move to the cottage in the city, it's been in my living room facing the window.
I'm not very tall, just under 5'4". When I sit on the chaise, my feet don't quite reach the end. It's a perfect fit.
I start - and end - most days here. With my laptop and a cup of morning coffee, I write and think and look out the window. Before bed, with a cup of tea, I go over the things that happened during the day.
I've solved a lot of problems from this thinking spot. And, I've let a lot of things go as I sat cocooned and wrapped in the throw that is folded over the back.
Sometimes an old chair, or chaise or corner of the porch, is more than just a place to sit. Sometimes it's a place to think and plan and simply muddle through another day.