I sit for once at a proper table. I'm in a new hotel in Coimbatore, and these perches in new places are something I enjoy very much. Although there is a notebook and a nicely sharpened pencil, I want to blog, so the tablet is in front of me and I Swype away. I'm feeling rather writerly and would have supplied a picture if this table hadn't been so messy.
Oh, why I can't have a table at home!? Well of course there is one but I don't have a chair whose height I'm happy with and so seldom sit at it to write. But a new chair! Where does it go when I don't need it? This is the problem with old houses that have been well lived in. Every corner has been accounted for. And there no room for more stuff unless you have already chosen what to get rid of.