Where I rarely sit

On a day I get to work from home, I don’t sit in our kitchen very often. It’s nothing to do with the chill that seems to linger there this time of year outside the window, or the lack of view.

The most exciting thing you might see if you strained toward the building next door might be someone’s hands washing dishes in a sink or rushing to remove a whistling teapot from a nearby stove.

Oddly, I’m not a big fan of sitting at the big desk in the bedroom either. It’d be hard to use it as well as I’d like, given how often it’s buried in laundry in need of folding. I should do something about that, by the way …