my favourite place to read

I can read anywhere.

When in the middle of a story that has me by the lapels I can ignore screaming children, airplane engine roar, Saturday morning shoppers at a cafe, my husband trying to explain to me - again - why the umpires were entirely to blame for his team's loss...anything.

But my very favourite place to read is curled up on the couch in my sun room.  The couch is cream, long, squishy soft.  The throw cushions have the exact right combination of neck-support and fuzzy softness.  The coffee table is old and dark with shabby edges; not only was it once upon a time my grandmother's blanket box, it also allows a cup of lukewarm coffee to be within ideal reach.  The room is filled with that prefect kind of reading light - you know, when the sun
is soft, hazy, and rich with dust motes as it pours gently through slatted wooden blinds.

Sometimes their might be a cat taking up more foot space than I'd prefer.  Or a child - or three - sitting on top of me reading/rolling cars up my leg/pretending my legs are a bridge.  And yet that's kind of perfect too.

What's your favourite place to read?