Did you have a reading corner when you were at school?
A quiet little corner of the classroom with a shelf full of interesting books, and somewhere to sit.
And were you allowed to sit there at break time or in the lunch hour reading, away from the rough and tumble of the playground?
I always went to schools where you were turfed out into the cold and the hurly burly of the playground in the name of character building, but I have always loved the concept of the reading corner.
And since my orange house (with a permatan that can be viewed here) has turned a lovely shade of winter white, there is a little reading corner just for me, right next to my collection of old needlework and knitting books which provided the material and inspiration for my thesis.
On one shelf is a little china iron, once upon a time full of sweets, that my dear papa brought home from Germany for me oh! such a long time ago.
And on another is a handmade model of a cutter, or ship's boat, made for me by a very clever dear friend, in whose old stone church the Head Chef and I were married and my children baptised, not quite such a long time since.
In my little corner, I can sit on the very same chair from my childhood home on which I nursed the Ploughboy over twenty-one years ago, resting on the very first needlepoint cushion that I ever stitched, surrounded by pleasant memories, and I can wonder at how quickly the years have gone by.