Bloglily has asked her readers to send in pictures of where we all do our writing. And people have sent in photos of the most inspiring spots: library carrels, desks at home that are surrounded by bookshelves, lovely neat surfaces and comfy looking chairs.

Here’s my entry. I spent the day today sitting right here in my living room, curled up on the couch, propped against the pillows with that red throw over my shoulders and the laptop warming my lap. Even so, today it was so cold and the window behind me so leaky that there were times when my hair was actually blowing in the breeze. See the beautiful flowers on the table? They’re from Valentine’s Day, and they smell wonderful. I kept stopping to sniff them. And to drink more of the pot of Earl Grey tea I had made.

Many days lately I work at Starbucks, sitting in an armchair by the window, where the sun shines in so brightly that I feel quite comfortable drinking venti black iced tea with extra ice, over and over again. Sometimes the only moving around I do is to go and order a refill. Writing at Starbucks works for me because there is enough background noise to keep me focusing on what I’m doing–and yet there is nothing there that I’m in charge of or that needs cleaning, so I have no excuse for getting up and doing other things.

Still, today it was nice to be at home, just the dog and me. It was too cold for him to want to go in and out, in and out, in and out. We were both happy just to sit under the blanket and think about our work. (My work is a book; his work is tearing up a stuffed snowman that he loves.) At four, I got up and made carrot soup and a loaf of bread, and then came back to work. That pile of papers on the end of the couch is my novel.