Booking Through Thursday – Ideal

I want you to think about your ideal reading experience. Think about the location. (Your bed? Favorite chair? The beach? Indoors or outdoors?). Think about the sounds. (Is there music playing? Happy children playing in the background? Utter silence?) Is there a snack or beverage nearby? Are you alone or with friends/family (presumably being quiet enough for you to read in peace)? What kind of lighting is there? Are you dressed in something ultra-comfy? What’s your position? Curled up? Stretched out?

Now … describe it so that we can all feel exactly how perfect it is … and why


I’ve just come across the above blog post from another Book Blogger – Booking Through Thursday, and thought it was such a great idea I wanted to share it with you guys, and tell you about my perfect reading experience.

“It’s strange to describe reading a book as a really great experience, but that’s kind of how it felt.”

Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Reading is such a personal experience you know, everyone likes to do it just a little differently!  Me, I can do it anywhere!  In bed, in the bath, even on the toilet – there have been a number of occasions when I have been reading a book that is so good, I’ve taken it with me to the loo, just to read a few more lines!  And being mum to a lively, excitable 2 year old it is often the only place I get any peace!!  But my ideal reading place?  Where would I end up if I could be anywhere in the world right now, reading anything I want?  For me, the answer is quite simple.  I am an al fresco reader and my perfect place to read would be in my own back garden on a hot summers day.  Now, living in England we don’t get too many of those so when they come, they must be savoured.  As soon as the sun starts to peek from behind the clouds all plans are dropped, shopping is cancelled, housework is forgotten, even school and work become obsolete as we all scramble outside in our long forgotten shorts and t-shirts, desperate to feel the warm caress of golden sunshine against our Vitamin D deprived complexions.  I always head to my favourite place in the world, my garden.

My garden is nothing special, it’s not acres and acres of lush green lawns, I don’t have an orchard, or a vineyard or a swimming pool and tennis courts.  It’s rather a humble little space but it is one of which we are very proud.  We have transformed our little patch from a jungle overgrown with poison ivy, weeds and the tangled webs of spiders into an oasis of humble loveliness where flowers gently sway in the breeze and love and beauty flow from every corner.

Today, I am dressed comfortably in shorts, flip flops and a t-shirt, most likely depicting the name of some race or other in which I have proudly participated, my hair is long and I wear it loose and flowing down my back.  I pull out my favourite sun lounger and lie on my front, propped up on my elbows and open my book.  As time goes by, I feel my skin start to prickle slightly with the heat when a gentle breeze rustles through the farmers golden field of corn and creeps up on me causing the hairs on my arms to momentarily stand on end, it whips my hair and causes a pleasant tickle on the back of my neck when just as quickly as it arrived, it is gone and everything is still again,

I glance up intermittently at the peaceful blue sky and watch the luminous, fluffy white clouds float like boats bobbing gently across a glistening blue lake.  Perhaps a butterfly will happen by, drifting on the breeze majestic and beautiful like a floating work of art. I will reach my hand out in the hope that she will land and allow me a closer look at her delicate beauty, but she is elusive and I watch as she glides gracefully over the fence, across the fields and away into the horizon.  Every now and again, I will reach up my hand and wipe away a droplet of cold water that has splashed onto my face as it runs down my cheek, my sons gleeful laughter tinkles like music to my ears as he splashes around his paddling pool. In the distance I hear a bird calling to her mate when the peaceful solitude is broken by the low hum of a lawnmower and the slam of a car door.

As day turns to night the sweet, smoky smell of barbecue reaches my nostrils, I hear the clink of glasses and the chatter and laughter of friends and relatives greeting one another when my stomach growls reminding me it is empty.  My husband has dusted the spider webs off our grill and as the meat spits and sizzles it is time for me to close the pages on my adventure for another day.

Why not share your own perfect reading experience?  Leave a link to your blog in the replies and keep the chain going! xxx