|This is not my chaise lounge. But in case you were|
wondering what all the fuss is about...
When my wife and I were married some years ago ("It feels like yesterday, hon, I swear!") she brought along some of her things into our new home. There was an antique waffle iron, a three year old daughter, and a relatively new chaise lounge.
Needless to say, I learned to love all of these.
There is nothing exceptional about the chaise. It is plain and blue, with wooden stubs for legs. It doesn't even match the decor of the bedroom it's in, although that contributes to its appeal. Some parts of the fabric are now slightly worn, so it could definitely use a slipcover. The armrests are not symmetrical, but generously padded, creating lots of interesting ways to get comfortable. But it is still very much an upright chair, so it doesn't lend itself to naps, and that's probably a good thing.
What I like most about the chaise is that it feels like it's built for me. It supports me nicely, with ideal height on both the back and the armrest, and a length that extends precisely to my feet. It is just right for my six-foot-five self. It's ergonomic without intending to be.
The chaise is situated in our bedroom right next to one of two heavily-curtained windows. Outside is a relatively modest, fenced backyard. Within view is our deck, my fledgling apple and pear trees, and the small corner area where I keep our honey bee hive. Just inside the window is a painted wooden sill that is deep enough to support even the largest of coffee mugs, although I tend to prefer tea or water while writing.
Perhaps best of all, the chaise is facing away from our bedroom television, completely eliminating any temptation to become distracted. Instead, it is opposite from a large bookshelf where rests my current reading list and a humble little radio.
Despite being an apparent magnet for laundry begging to be folded, the chaise is regularly cleared off and serves as my writer's lounge. There I find a delicate balance of comfort and inspiration, tucked into a small corner, of a small house, in a large world.
Where do you like to write? In public? In seclusion? Can you write amidst noise or random people, like in a bustling coffee shop? Or do you prefer a more tranquil setting?