The lovely Ruth at Rock+Purl wrote today about her favourite spot in her home. I thought about this, and realized that despite my lack of love for our flat, I do have a place that I spend most of my time, and that gives me lots of comfort.

This is our massive sofa. It’s in our living room, right under the south-facing window, which means on most mornings, this is the warmest spot in the flat, and me being the cat-like creature that I am, tend to secure this corner with some sense of territory.

There is always a pillow and a blanket there, because this sofa has been a bed for so many people. Ruth herself has slept on it, and our best friend Chantelle lived on it while she was writing her Master’s dissertation. A number of friends have spent the night on it: it’s long enough that 6′ 2″ Daddy Irish can sleep comfortably on it, and a pair of our friends have slept on it on each end, feet meeting in the middle.

During the worst of my depression, this was where I stayed. It was my safe corner, and had everything I needed. My knitting, my books and magazines, my writing tools: I would knit, read or write as I needed. It’s even where I spin, as it’s a comfortable enough height for me to sit with a bunch of cushions against my back to treadle along with a DVD on the telly, or an audiobook on my iPod. Hopefully soon we’ll be getting a dock sound system, and it’ll be easier for me to listen to my playlists and audiobooks without using my headphones.

In the last year, that windowsill has been home to my plants that I grow from seed. So while there is currently only a bright basil plant there to provide me with colour, soon there will be little pots of seedlings, all doing their growing in the warm sun, and potentially providing us with lush colourful chillies, too.

This is where most of my knitting gets done. A little card table allows me to write by hand in the sun. Books and magazines get read in turn. This is where Nick and I huddle up in the evenings in front of the TV – usually shouting at Pointless or drooling at cooking shows. Sometimes I’d be knitting and he’d set up the card table to paint his miniatures. Sometimes we’d both be reading.

Quite often, I sleep here.

Whenever Nick comes home, I’m pretty sure he checks the sofa before he checks my office, to see where I am.

When we do move, some time in the far future, we’re probably going to hang on to this sofa. Maybe I’ll work out how to get new covers for it, and it will likely live in whatever room I claim as my office.

You know, I think I’m going to go and knit for a bit. You’ll know where to find me.